Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Rodney "Rod" Amadeus Murray

Gaz was standing right outside a small cafe. It was oddly abandoned at the moment, as if there was something like a total solar eclipse happening soon and the patrons nor the staff wanted to miss it. Gaz was nonchalantly sipping a beverage -- Blood Lite, which actually used blood substitute #9 instead of actual human blood -- in a paper Starbucks-like cup with a white plastic lid.

While on the outside she was cool, calm, and collected, inside she was a hornet's nest of anxiety and worry. She had not seen the patient that her lead had indicated was down this way. She continued to give off the appearance of nonchalance, but she grew more and more concerned with every footstep beyond the cafe, with its fenced in outdoor patio with its glistening white tables and matching chairs and umbrellas with their stands.

She wandered around to the back, where it was obvious was where the shipping companies unloaded their supplies for the cafe's baristas to use, attached to a moderate sized parking lot, for staff and customers, for a small cafe in town. Gaz saw no movement back here, smelled no human blood anywhere except the blood substitute in her drink, which wasn't as odorous as one might assume.

Gaz scanned this parking lot very carefully for the patient, trying to smell their blood to locate them -- with no intention to drink it, of course. She preferred Blood Lite, to be perfectly honest, finding it tasting better. She smelled none. No human blood, and it was a little disconcerting. Why was this cafe even closed? It was really too early for something like that.

Gaz felt an odd chill to her right, roughly at two o'clock. It was then she saw the awkward movement. The jerky, almost unnaturally skittery movement just out of the corner of her right eye.

It was Rod Murray, and his floral print hospital gown had come untied, and his back was exposed as he braced himself against a wood plank fence just behind the the dumpster of the cafe. His eyes never moved in their sockets. His face never showed or betrayed an expression, as if it were nothing but a single-piece mask. His body was pale, like porcelain.

Gaz dropped her empty cup when she saw the crack appear down his back, from the nape of his neck to the top of his buttocks, as if someone was sliding a zipper downward. The vampire found this . . . disconcerting. It was as if someone or something was wearing this man as a costume.

That's when the black mass with gold bits came out this crack, pulling itself out. As if this mass was just molting Rod's skin, which stood stiff, like a decorative ceramic statue. But completely empty.

When the black mass solidified, it solidified into something much longer, and much larger than Rod had been. It was a centipede, Chilopoda hominidparasitus, with a black body (steaming to dry its chitinous exoskeleton quickly) and hundreds of gold legs, a pair for each of its many body segments. It had a flattened, rounded head with a pair of antennae that were swept forward. It had a pair of elongated mandibles and two pairs of maxillae, which were food-manipulation mouth parts, with the first pair of maxillae bearing palps. It did not appear to have eyes, and apparently could only discern light and dark. It possessed forcipules, unique to centipedes, which were modifications of the first pair of legs, forming a pincer-like appendage which was found just behind its head. Its bite was venomous, though it was technically not a bite, but caused by the forcipules, as with other centipedes.

Gaz just stared at this thing, and she couldn't help but think that this was what a blind Taxxon on human growth hormone would look like. When reared up -- something she didn't think centipedes could do, and quickly surmised that it might have been something that it inherited from Rod, whose body was still standing, clutching the plank wood fence, as if he was a ceramic mannequin -- the centipede creature was at least twice the size of your average Taxxon and twice as long. How all this managed to fit inside a human skin, she didn't know.

But she wasn't the only one to see this creature. She may have been the only one to bear witness of it coming out of Rod's back, but she wasn't the only one to see the creature in its full monstrous visage.

[DinosaurNothlit]

It was oddly abandoned at the moment, as if there was something like a total solar eclipse happening soon and the patrons nor the staff wanted to miss it.

Loved that line.  XD

Also loved Horse's fight.  Horse is a serious badass.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Chilopoda hominidparasitus

Gaz had but a moment to take in and inventory the situation. Bystanders -- innocent civilians -- had witnessed this arthropod abomination, and had screamed in alarm before turning and, with good sense, running away. But this creature had sensed their screams of alarm and fear, and began to make after them.

Unlike their millipede counterparts, centipedes were carnivorous. And these bystanders were small enough to make a meal. Or worse -- do to them what happened to Rod over there. Some centipede species were known to be parthenogenic, meaning that it could produce both eggs and sperm within the same organism. But what Gaz had failed to take notice of was that this creature did not have an ovipositor, which (despite being a centipede) it would have had considering its mother, meaning it must have been male.

Dammit, Gaz found herself thinking as her RAFian instincts had her react immediately, that thing is fast!

Gaz would wonder later how she managed to tackle the beast out the way in three strides from where she was standing and not get poisoned from its bite. True, she didn't feel so much as a graze from the beast. But she was not a fool. She knew this was by sheer luck and not all skill.

Gaz chanced a momentary glance over her shoulder and saw that all the bystanders had the good sense not to dally any further. Unfortunately, this gave the creature an opening that forced her to translate her body into its insubstantial mist form to dodge. She reconstituted herself about three o'clock from the creature.

"This isn't gonna be easy," she muttered softly. Then, as she tried desperately to bait the creature away from the direction where the terrified bystanders had stood in horror as this creature reared up to its rather considerable height, she considered what she just said. "But, then again, when is anything worth doing ever easy?"

But there was no denying it, they were at an impasse. No. No, that wasn't entirely true. This thing could possibly kill her with its venom. But there was very little that she could do to kill it. Killing a demonic puppet was a cinch, but this?

She was at a loss as to what she could possibly do to kill --

Then she heard a squawk, like that of a parrot. She looked up and saw a silhouette coming towards her. The centipede creature only sense the sudden darkness, but nothing else. The bird came rather like the summoning of the White Ninja Falconzord, only with parrot squawks. But that still did not make it any less impressive.

"Beaky?" Gaz said.

As Laserbeak landed on Gaz's left shoulder, he gave a squawk that clearly said, "I back off and let you do your own thing for a couple of weeks, and look what you got yourself into. Tsk tsk tsk. Can't leave you alone for instant."

The centipede creature looked very confused about the sudden darkness than the sudden light. This was the reason why it didn't press its attack, which was fortunate for Gaz.

Laserbeak gave Gaz's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, before transforming into Gaz's Amazon-themed body armor. Also giving her a weapon on her right wrist in the form of a blaster on a bracer. Gaz was now equipped to deal with this creature.

Gaz immediately sprang into action, and took aim at the creature. She fired a gattling burst of energy blasts at the centipede. At first, it seemed to do nothing. But after a few seconds, the shots began to rip through its body.

Naturally, this caused it to thrash about, accidentally destroying Rod's ceramic body with only his mouth, ironically enough, remaining in one piece. While Gaz felt momentary guilt at this, she had another prerogative.

It a few minutes, it was very evident that it was dead. A final blast incinerated the body, as a precaution of someone taking its altered DNA for their own nefarious purposes. It was done.

She looked at the ceramic lips of Rod Murray, and wondered how she would explain this to his family, unaware of the fact that Rod had very little family, just a father and a younger sister, and both were estranged with him due to his womanizing, misogynistic mannerisms. His father found it loathesome and disrespectful, while his younger sister found it grating and irritating. They wouldn't be all that devastated about his death.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Then she heard a squawk, like that of a parrot. She looked up and saw a silhouette coming towards her. The centipede creature only sense the sudden darkness, but nothing else.

That centipede was in the path of totality for the Laserbeaklipse!

[Cloak]

Then she heard a squawk, like that of a parrot. She looked up and saw a silhouette coming towards her. The centipede creature only sense the sudden darkness, but nothing else.

That centipede was in the path of totality for the Laserbeaklipse!

*blinks in surprise*

I forgot about the eclipse association. I just remembered the scene of summoning the White Ninja Falconzord as dynamic. Happy accident, I guess.

Anyway, "Memoirs" will be on a bit of a hiatus. I just got a Nintendo Switch, and that probably will occupy my time some. That is, if it can ever get pass this "Preparing . . ." screen. Perhaps my internet is too slow.

It was frozen. And just setting up the damn eshop trying to link it to my 3DS account is so NEEDLESSLY frustrating. What is with these people and making these things so user-unfriendly?!

Got it -- but that was more of a hassle than it had to be. Anyway, maybe I'll post a chapter tomorrow. Get this frustration out.

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Hotaru Izumi "Izzy" Xavier

Demos had an inkling. He approached an old, decommissioned lab that he knew about. He wasn't sure if anyone else knew about it, and he kind of wanted to keep it that way. It may be a way to continue his work while his laboratory privileges at the forum was suspended. . . .

But he paused to consider the possible ramifications and consequences of such a decision. He saw how Yarin was treated when he constantly tried to remake his microwave, before growing wise and stopping altogether. It would be same deal if he went back to making fiends. They still haven't recovered or destroyed all the ones Malice still had in her possession. It would be a poor decision to start it up again, he decided. They might even take Patches away from him if he continued . . .

Nah, the others weren't monsters like that. They wouldn't wrong him like that as a form of punishment (whatever Odie ever said to the contrary). And Patches was to him like Leatherhead (before his anthropomorphic mutation into his son) was to GH, like Laserbeak was to Gaz, like Saberhagen was to Melissa. Demos loved him dearly, which also helped him keep his demonic nature under control. Enabled him to actually to feel love. To feel compassion. Something an ordinary demon is unable to feel. Something they are incapable of feeling.

Demos entered the lab, which looked dingy and sad. He almost pained him to see what was clearly an opulent, robust laboratory fall into disrepair and dilapidation. To see what was an obviously elaborate lab setup reduced to a discarded and disregarded so completely, so thoroughly. It was like a musician seeing what was a great music hall go horribly neglected, an athlete seeing a once-beautiful field go unmanicured, an artist seeing an elaborate art studio falling apart. It was terrible to see. Heartbreaking.

The dust and dirt in this place was at least an inch thick in some places. What was sparkling white tile and marble was now gray or brown or even black in some places, as well as chipped or fully broken away. The glass was either grimy, broken, or in shards. Demos stood out like a sore thumb in this place, wearing a silk suit. He would readily acknowledge that wearing the suit was not one of his better ideas.

A slight, jittery sort of movement caught the corner of his left eye and he turned to face it. He only saw the fluttering of a floral print hospital gown before it vanished to his right seconds later. Naturally, he chased it.

When he caught up to it, he saw a man as pale as porcelain bracing himself firmly and securely to a fallen support beam, revealing an open hole in the laboratory's roof, which Demos couldn't help but liken to a gaping wound. The back of this man was fully exposed, as well as the crack from the nape of his to the top of his buttocks. Demos watched, almost dispassionately, as a primarily red mass with some black and gold struggled to liberate itself from this man.

It fell from the man, who remained where he stood. Stiff and unmoving, like a ceramic figurine. Demos was surprised that it didn't make him curious as to just how this happened. He found that he didn't care about the how, but more the why. What biological purpose could such a creature need to "wear" humans. His kind had a reason, of sorts, essentially being the personifications of malfeasance and malevolence, but what was this bug's purpose for it?

The mass took the shape of a beetle much larger than Izzy, with its exoskeleton steaming as it dried quickly. Yet it was still soft-bodied, with its wing covers being more leathery than hard. Its lower abdomen was bioluminsecent. It was red with black and gold highlights. It was a firefly, Lampyridae hominidparasitus, and apparently it was carnivorous.

Why? Because it went after Demos almost immediately.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Lampyridae hominidparasitus

The firefly flew forward, but Demos did not move, as the firefly could not fly in this place with the fallen beams. The clearance just wasn't there. If it did -- well, that would risk tearing this entire place down. And it actually was scheduled for demolition, Demos saw now, with all the yellow tape with "Do Not Enter" thick black lettering.

Wonderful. That complicates things needlessly. Fortunately, his healing factor should help should this place be brought down. But, as he glanced down at his suit, he knew his suit would not be as lucky. And he was actually rather attached to this suit. Again, he regretted his decision to wear it on a mission.

The creature looked as it it was trying to discern a path to Demos, but the gap wasn't really large enough for it. It would have to force itself through it, which could cause the entire thing to come down. Demos was sure that he would survive, but he'd rather not have to bring this place down.

The firefly creature apparently was both famished and determined. Determined to have Demos as a meal. Demos was finding it hard to be impressed by the creature. He was finding it difficult to care about Izzy Xavier -- the person this overly large bug killed. During combat, it was just so easy for him to fall into that perilous trap of his old demonic ways. It's one reason he doesn't use his power of possession so much anymore -- it makes it easier to stop caring, to stop feeling compassion or love, to stop feeling for others. And he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to stop feeling.

Not to mention, demonic possession can be addicting for the demon in question. Yeah, the whole "Exorcist" schtick? It's either a game by the possessing entity or a legitimate sign of an addict to demonic body possession. At least, that's what Demos thought of it.

Demos had to dodge to the right. Apparently, the firefly managed to get through the small gap without the demon's notice. The strike had left a minute tear in Demos's left sleeve, which angered Demos a great deal.

"Do you have any idea what I went through to get a silk suit of this color and fit?!" Demos snarled, briefly unaware of the nonsentience of the beast. "Never mind. You, firefly thing? You die. You die now."

But now the lack of room was restricting Demos's movements for offense, defense, and agility. It's always something, isn't it? Never fail, either. Demos had to be careful. This place was full of rotting, splintering wood, including the bare ceiling in which the rafters showed quite clearly. This amount of disrepair, and the virtual nonexistence of any maintenance upon it, in what was once a reputable scientific laboratory -- a wonderland for science nerds and people like Demos himself -- was very close to sacrilege to him. This place supposed to be a treasure, yet it reeked of neglect and dismissal.

So he couldn't use his pyrokinesis on this place, or else this place would go up quicker than a matchstick. And he really didn't want to . . .

You know want? Demos thought, fed up after another attack tore a hole in his pants. This place is already condemned. It's already going to come down. The electricity is still on, too. If they need an excuse to explain this away, there it is.

Then he spotted the porcelain skin statue of Izzy. Demos quickly decided that there was nothing that could be done for him. Sure, he could have save the body for closure to his family, but what's the chances that they'd believe a demon for how their son died? Or even believe the circumstance as to how he died?

Conversely, could he really just let them worry where their son, brother, or maybe even father was? Even though they may not believe him, they would have something, right?

So, Demos made his way to the porcelain skin of Izzy, dodging the firefly, just barely. This caused more rips and tears into his suit, which looked as if it had seen better days. Once there, he created a funnel of fire around the two, consuming the building. In the back of his head, he had an urging to use hellfire or Fiendfyre, but he dismissed the notion immediately. To use those would be a sign of weakness and laziness.

And . . . It was done. He forced the fire out, leaving behind cinders and blackened wood. The firefly was dead, but the Izzy skin was intact. The question now was how to tell his family what happened and communicated the odd circumstances around his death . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Herbert "Herbie" Alan Roland

Cerulean had gone to a defunct comic book store. They have seemingly been going out of style, nowadays -- replaced by digital media and digital means to procure these comics. This was a fully-fledged business last year, before it went belly-up. What was it called? Lovhaug Comics? It was something like that.

Anyway, the building looked sad, empty, and bleak. The windows were devoid of any displays or advertisements, and the windows showed the bare wood floor with dust bunnies here and there. The shelves that once held comics of a variety of series were now vacated and stood empty and without purpose.

Cerulean hadn't entered yet, but it was clear that someone -- someone with strength and speed had burst through. This building was essentially abandoned, though there was a "For Lease" sign that seemed rather weather damaged from the front steps. But the building was not at all dilapidated. The floor, walls, and ceiling was bare and bore sign from having been well-maintained, until recently, when the business fell threw or they decided to move to a new location -- Cerulean did not know the logistics. It wasn't exactly big news when it happened, whatever it was.

When Cerulean crossed the threshold, he quickly took inventory of his surroundings as RAFian training dictated. The store wasn't really too big, though it did have a smaller, upper room. Probably for the more adult comics for comic connoisseurs to peruse when this place did business. And these were firm, stone stairs, with not escalators to speak of. Or if there were, they were amongst the first to be tore out.

Whoever was here with him, Cerulean considered, they were probably no upstairs. He would have heard the hard slapping of bare feet against the pristine, flat stone. After all, all the patients were barefoot. They were supposed to wear yellow socks with raised white parts, which added traction. But the nurses were too afraid to approach these patients to insist upon this.

That's when he saw the movement. Cerulean, being a speedster, had a keen eye for noticing even the most minute movements. He followed this movement, searching everywhere between for the patient. He was sure that he was in here. The door was forced open, after all, and he couldn't fathom anyone else would come into this place. Granted, he didn't know why and what one of the patients would come here for . . .

Then he saw Herbie, standing by a low shelf which used hold comics for sale. He gripped the side of the bare wooden shelf, which appeared to be bolted to the floor. Cerulean took notice of Herbie's thin frame and black hair like a brillo pad. His face was slack and expressionless, his eyes were blank and empty and seemingly stuck in their sockets. The entirety of his face looked like a really detailed mask.

But the thing he noticed more was that Herbie's hospital gown was fluttering forward, untied and open. It was then that Cerulean noticed the crack in the boy's porcelain-like body the extended from the nape of his neck to the top of his buttocks. And something was actually trying to get out of this boy's thin frame.

The green mass freed itself, and grew three times the size of the boy, now an empty porcelain shell. This green mass solidified into a green stag beetle, Lucanus cervus hominidparasitus, that was silver at the joints and had titanium silver eyes. His long jaws, so like a stag's antlers (hence why it was male), was at least as long as the shelf that Herbie had braced himself on, on which he still was gripping.

Stag beetles fed on decaying wood or tree sap, and were not predatory. And they were not usually hostile for humans. But this wasn't like those stag beetles, apparently, as it showed immediate antagonism towards Cerulean. Cerulean found himself actually expecting such a thing, as it always seems to go that way, in his time as a RAFian.

Cerulean, despite himself, felt confident that he was in no danger. There was no way that this creature was faster than him. . . .

[Cloak]

Wow. I forgot my own RAFianniversary -- it was eight days ago. I've been a RAFian for about nine years and a week now. Wow.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
Lucanus cervus hominidparasitus

Well, it flew at Cerulean. Cerulean didn't know stag beetles could fly -- he had never seen any in flight. True, it was rather . . . slow . . . and lumbering . . . but the distinctive low-pitched buzzing from the act was like hearing a chainsaw. It actually sounded a lot more intimidating than it actually was.

Cerulean dodged it easily. His superhuman speed allowed his perception to be superhuman human fast as well. But he really didn't need to with this slow lumbering beast. But, unfortunately, he doubted his scope of doing anything to this beast, offensively. He did not have a bullwhip tail like a Garatron, or any sharp-edged weapon like a sword or knife. He supposed that he could punch it, but would it even feel it through that exoskeletal armor of its?

Cerulean was easily zipping around the large lumbering beast. He was allowing himself to become dangerously overconfident and ****y about dodging it. But he still wasn't sure that he could damage it. Maybe if he could hit the same spot repeatedly, that could wear the fiend down.

Cerulean should have been paying more attention instead of considering possible methods of offensive attacks. He never noticed that this creature stood semi-upright, and its front legs ended bony, human-like hands ending in four digits. Obviously, inherited from Herbie's DNA. While Cerulean's mind was going miles a second, considering all possibilities that he could see. It left him immobile for a moment too long.

The stag beetle snapped its fingers, increasing its speed to the level of Kineceleran or Citrakayah. It managed to tear Cerulean's shirt, but Cerulean reacted fast enough that he could avoid any serious damage. He wasn't really accustomed to being taken unawares by means of speed. It was an embarrassing mistake for him to make, and made him remember the whole Great Race screw-up. Not again. He wouldn't take thing so lightly again.

Fortunately, Cerulean had proven himself faster than a Kineceleran or Citrakayah. He was able to effectively dodge and evade the beasts attacks. Granted, it was a lot harder than before, but it was doable. As he did, the back of his mind, he was trying to come up with the best course of action to destroy this monster.

He noticed that using its superhuman speed actually seemed blind the creature. Clearly, its brain was not sophisticated enough to process the environment moving at such speeds, like a tiger beetle. This could prove to be an advantage, Cerulean suspected.

But, suddenly, its speed died down. It had only been like 24 seconds. This meant that this creature's superhuman speed had a time limit. Now the question was if there was a cool-down time. But one thing was clear.

It was time to take action. Take action while somehow keeping Herbie's body intact. His family deserves some closure, Cerulean decided as he dodged more attacks by zipping here and there.

A roar. The creature was getting frustrated with Cerulean. It clearly didn't want to kill Cerulean, but it wanted to kill him just the same. No matter, no matter -- Cerulean thought that he had come upon a plan of attack to eliminate the way-too-big bug. He deftly picked up a piece of splintered wood, with one edge very sharp.

This bug had a very present weakness that Cerulean might not be able to exploit if it was the typical size of a stag beetle. Cerulean went for its titanium silver eyes, attacking with jabs and thrusts of the splintered wood. At least six times a second.

Within minutes, the creature was blinded. But Cerulean wasn't done. He quickly worked on the front legs before it could react or put together what happened. By the time it did, its dismembered front legs clattered to the floor with an odd metallic din, permanently disabling its superhuman speed.

But Cerulean wasn't done yet. Soon, the floor was littered with stag beetle bits. Cerulean had completely dismantled it, as if it were a piece of furniture of some sort waiting to be assembled. It was done.

Now only one matter remained. Cerulean looked at the Herbie Roland shell, as he considered what to say to his parents and family.

[Gaz]

Took me a while, but I'm all caught up! Loving it.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Yanno, I was actually going to mention the tiger beetle as I was reading about the latest battle, but it seems you beat me to it. 

[Cloak]

Took me a while, but I'm all caught up! Loving it.

*steeples fingers a la Mr. Burns.*

Excellent.

Yanno, I was actually going to mention the tiger beetle as I was reading about the latest battle, but it seems you beat me to it. 

I know things!

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
Britney Joanne Shandler

Dino had followed a strange scent -- which she highly suspected was the scent of a patient. But it was a faint human scent, and a scent of . . . of something else. It did not bode well. But Dino was thinking that Britney might have been converted into something. Not a vampire, as they don't really have much of a scent, she found. Probably not a werewolf, as it would still be a human scent.

The scent had led her to the quarry, which was large enough to accommodate her at her full size. She actually liked the feeling of the cool stone beneath her feet, but she was a little weary of this place, as there was not much cover and she would be spotted with astonishing ease. Her scales did not camouflage her against the pale white stone here. She stuck out like a sore thumb.

She proceeded carefully and slowly, almost as if she anticipated an attack or that Screweye was back from the grave and vengeful. As this was happening at the same time as the other battles, she did not know what to expect. All she knew was to follow the scent. It was only lead she had.

She looked very cautiously, afraid of missing something very important. It wasn't impossible for her to do, either, and she knew her own faults and limits. She felt a bit of anxiety, not knowing what this patient might have been converted into. She did not know, but it was something decidedly not human but carried the faintest hint of a human scent.

She tried to go over all of the possibilities in her head of what it could be. It couldn't be a form of angelization, that is turning into an angel, as they don't have a scent (Blaze's scent was more from his djinn side). Likewise, it couldn't have been demonization as there was no traces of brimstone that she could smell (Demos, despite protesting that he did not, smelled of brimstone rather heavily at times, usually when emotional). And she didn't know if it was even possible to turn someone into an angel or demon, as the RAFians have never encountered neophyte converts.

She was pretty sure that it wasn't mummification, because it would reek of rot and gauze. Not roboticization, as it would not have any scent at all if that were true. Dollification? Possibly, but then there would not be any scent whatsoever as in with roboticization. Poltergeization? No, there would have been residue at the site of conversion, surely, not to mention ghosts don have scents. She had already ruled out lycanthropy and vampirism. Could be zombification? No, then the patient would smell of rot.

She really could not begin to hazard a rational guess at what whatever patient she was following was being converted into. But she was sure she would find out, but she wasn't expecting it to be as quickly as she did.

She saw Britney Shandler, standing at the quarry's cliff wall, bracing up against it as her hospital gown was fluttering open. Her face was like a mask, expressionless and eyes affixed in their sockets. She was pale and her body was like porcelain, like a doll or figurine. There was also a large crack from the nape of her neck down to the top of her buttocks, and a red mass was oozing out. There should have been a sound, but there was none.

The mass rapidly grew to be larger than the small girl. It was at the very least four times as large as Britney was, yet small enough to fit reasonably in Dino's jaws. As its exoskeleton dried with almost supernatural swiftness, its morphology and physiology became more evident in this teneral state. It had a round, almost elliptical, dome-shaped body with six short legs, the first pair of which had segmented, human-like hands -- presumably inherited from Britney. It was bright, ruby red with seven platinum gray spots. It was also platinum white at the joints. It also had a long ovipositor, giving it the appearance somewhat of a horseshoe crab when not it flight. It was obviously female, and it was a ladybug, Coccinella magnifica hominidparasitus.

Dino actually took a step backward in revulsion. This thing just killed that kid. Granted, this might have brought back some latent PTSD from her time with Screweye, but she muscled her way through it taking two steps forward. This garnered the parasitoid beetle's attention, and, being carnivorous and not particularly smart, it decided to prey on Dino, to the latter's frank surprise.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Ladybug wants to eat me, huh?  Do I look like an aphid to you, punk?  Bring it. 

P.S. I enjoyed the descriptions of what various hypothetical transformations might smell like.  Yep, that would be something I've thought about a lot.

[Cloak]

So she shall.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
Coccinella magnifica hominidparasitus

Dino was usually a proponent of the Hawkgirl battle style, a style often employed by Faerie, but she decided to wait this time. See what this oversized ladybug was capable of. Dino loomed over her, watching. And judging.

But the ladybug did not seem to realize how threatening Dino was and how . . . nonthreatening it itself was. Even at this size, the scope of what it could do to Dino was severely limited, and Dino knew it. Even if it had an egg to oviposit inside Dino it wouldn't work. Dino's scaly hide was just too tough for it, despite the fact that Hivectoid humans have a thick, slightly glossier skin than Prime Universe humans, but still. Dino wasn't human and this species -- genetically modified by Malice, hence why it wasn't a wasp -- targeted humans for such a thing, despite being mercifully ultra rare in Hyvect. And, besides, it wasn't like Dino would allow it to get close enough to accomplish such a thing, nor would her Mark tolerate it, disintergrating the egg before it could gestate. Dino was safe from such a thing, despite its relative unlikelihood of ever occurring.

The Volkswagen-like insect swept her wing covers forward, and powered her dry, veined wings with the sound of a Black Hawk helicopter taking off. Dino thought that it was a weirdly loud sound, coming from a creature that, even at Dino's full and considerable size, was still smaller than the nothlit. Dino really found herself to be unimpressed by the creature, in addition to feeling revulsion at it.

Dino waited until it was within range and then smacked it with enough force to shatter its surprisingly fragile ovipositor. But if this hurt the creature, it didn't show. It should have because it should have been the equivalent to a professional mix martial art fighter punching an average Joe Schmo in the groin. But perhaps pain receptors were different in Hyvectoid insects.

Then again, she seemed to now take this battle personally. Dino, however, remained ambivalent toward her plight. Dino didn't ask for her to kill that little girl, that Britney. Then again, this creature didn't asked to be born -- she just did what her genetics (assuming Hyvectoid creatures did not have DNA as their genetic material -- they, in fact, did, but Dino didn't know that) had programmed her to do. These creatures did not do what they did out of malice (though one could argue that they did do it because of Malice), but what their biology dictated. Could they truly be called evil because of this fact?

The lady bug reared up, to free up its hands, which looked very much like scarlet human skeleton hands due to their segmentation. She laced her Jack Skellington fingers together and cracked her fingers. Then she turned and essentially used a Strength attack, pulling a chunk of rock from the ground easily and threw it at Dino. Dino easily smashed it in half with her tail, but it took a lot of exertion, which surprised her. This ladybug creature had inherited superhuman strength from Britney.

Dino narrowed her eyes at the creature, as the creature's superhuman strength faded, lasting barely thirty seconds. Dino glanced at Britney's empty porcelain-like shell, and decided to try to aim the battle away from her direction. She wouldn't be able to tell her parents what happened as she cannot disguise herself as a human.

The ladybug creature powered its wings again, as it decided to charge at Dino who blocked it with her large, squarish head. And she flipped the beetle midair, and she decided to become more proactive in the battle. She chased the beetle, gnashing her teeth, which would intimidate creatures with better visual acuity.

Dino roughly headbutted it again, sending the creature tumbling head over heel. She smacked it with her tail which actually hit it with enough force to dent the creature's exoskeletal armor. Then she managed to snatch the bug in her powerful jaws. Then, with a strangely satisfying crunch, Dino killed the ladybug creature. Then she spat out the chitinous mess that was the creature. She had no intention on eating the bug.

Now, only one matter remained, as Dino looked at the porcelain shell of Britney Shandler.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Ugh, I'd definitely never eat a ladybug.  Those are the second-worst-smelling insects I've ever encountered, after ants.    Granted I have never smelled a stinkbug in person before.

I'm glad I was able to save something of Britney to give closure to her family, though.

[Cloak]

Yep.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:
Samuel Cade Light

Sakki was following a lead. The only lead she had about one of these patients was that he or she was headed to an open-air concert hall, which apparently had a retractable roof in case of rain and other precipitation. Sakki had to admit that this was more of a GH venue than her kind of thing -- but he wanted some uninterrupted father-son time with Leatherhead, and she could not begrudge him that.

She approached the deserted seats with all the caution she possessed. She couldn't let her guard down now. She did not know what this patient was capable of or what he or she might have been converted into. She had to confess, she didn't know of many things that the patient could have been converted into, but she knew none of them could have been good.

Even though it was open air -- this place was very spooky when it was completely empty and deserted. Almost as if it was standing in a post-apocalyptic world, and Sakki was the sole survivor. It was not a pleasant thought, and the all-consuming silence of this place was a little more than disconcerting. Sakki was accustomed to the normal hustle and bustle of everyday RAFian life, but silence like this? It was very nearly intolerable. There was always sounds of this and that at the forum, but nothing . . . nothing was like this silence. It was almost as if she was in space, with each footstep echoing louder and louder, making the silence of everything else all the more pointed. And made each step forward sound more and more ominous and foreboding.

There seemed to be too many seats here, upholstered in some burgundy fabric. There had to be at least eight hundred seats here, not counting the balconies. Who could have possibly sold out this place? She couldn't imagine someone with enough draw to actually fill up this overly ornate concert hall. Forward was the stage, with the usual theatrical wings, stage apron, and large burgundy curtains with brown tasseled ties. The curtain was down, giving away nothing behind it. All of it looked speck and span, as if it had just been recently cleaned.

Then she saw it. Dead center of the stage's apron, gripping the slight lip very tightly and very firmly was Cade Light. His eyes fixed, apparently fused to his skull, his expressionless face like a porcelain mask, and body as pale as porcelain. His hospital gown was open and fluttering in the slight breeze.

There was a large crack from the nape of his neck to the top of his buttocks, as if he literally burst a seam. And a golden mass was fighting to extricate itself from this crack. There should have been a sound, but there was none. Sakki put her hand over her mouth, looking very much like she wanted to vomit.

When the golden mass took shape, with its exoskeleton steaming, drying quickly, it was an obscenely large insect, characterised by having three joints in its tarsi, and has two small, silver antennae with conical bases and three segments, including a silver seta at the tip. It had a black rostrum that arose from the posteroventral part of its head, complex sound-producing membranes, and a mechanism for linking the wings that involves a down-rolled edging on the rear of the forewing and an upwardly protruding flap on the hindwing. It evidently lack any ability to jump. It had prominent silver compound eyes set wide apart on the sides of its head. The short antennae protrude between the eyes or in front of them. They also have three small, black ocelli located on the top of the head in a triangle between the two large eyes. The silver mouthparts form a long sharp rostrum that it inserts into a plant to feed. The golden post-clypeus is a large, nose-like structure that lies between the eyes and makes up most of the front of the head: it contains the pumping musculature. Its golden thorax has three segments and houses the powerful wing muscles. They have two pairs of transparent membranous wings. The golden middle thoracic segment has an operculum on the underside, which may extend posteriorly and obscure parts of the abdomen. The abdomen is segmented were largely hollow and used as a resonating chamber. The surface of the forewing is super-hydrophobic; it is covered with minute waxy cones, blunt spikes that create a water-repellent film. Bacteria landing on the wing surface are not repelled, rather their membranes are torn apart by the nanoscale-sized spikes.

It was a cicada, Cicadoidea hominidparasitus. It buzzed into the air and took target at Sakki, apparently mistaking her for a plant. She wondered idly if she should have taken offense at this.