Description: Agent Little has suddenly found himself in the greatest danger in his entire detective life! After being forced to mindmeld with a teenage girl to fight Darkstalkers, he wakes up after months in a coma, strapped to a medical table. How he got there, he does not know. But what he soon finds that he is helpless in the clutches of the insane Doctor Tessitore. The Agent of Interpol soon realizes that the only way he is going to escape is through his wit and unstoppable charm. Will Daniel Jack escape this evil dimension, or will he become entangled in... the Webs Of Insanity!?! (The interior is a dungeon. Daniel Jack himself is topless, his manly chest naked and exposed. He is restrained by wrist cuffs that chain him to the wall, but giving him enough slack to lunge at what must be his captor. Dr. Tess seems to have the top half of a woman, and the bottom half of a spider, and has red glowing eyes. She is dressed in a strapless red evening gown, and has several goblins nearby with doctor tools and one of them is handing her a scalpel.) (45 cents)
It had to be a dream.
Images of the beetle folk swim the in Daniel Jack's mind. Flickers of alien people, plucky teenagers, and embarrassing, impossible moments fade in and out, not quite memories, but too strange to be deliriums. The detective's eyelids are so heavy, so weak. It seemed natural to keep them closed. He didn't know... he didn't know what was happening. He remember silence, he remembers sleep. ANd now, he was finding himself in a deep darkness, trapped into the depth of his own introspection. No sound. No sights. Nothing but darkness.
And gradually, he begins to feel sore.
He couldn't muster the strength to open his eyes yet. Steadily, his senses begin to drag themselves awake. His touch was the first to come back. He was lying down on something cold and flat. He wiggles a bit, but finds himself bound down. He was strapped down, that was clear. But why? A breeze comes over his body, answering his question somewhat. A sharp chill crawls over him as he realizes that he was wearing very little clothing. In his weak motions, he could identify that his top was exposed, and his lower torso was... almost exposed, with only his pelvis covered. Little clothing, strapped down. An assumption was beginning to form in his mind.
And then he begins to see the lights.
Behind his eyelids, there was now light and shadow. Something very bright was pouring down on him. In the corner of his eyelids, amorpheous shadows stretch and contort. People. It had to be people. Slowly, Daniel opens his eyes. He was still deaf. But with his eyes open, he could only wince briefly at the sheer brightness of the light. Or rather, the lamp. The detective of Interpol could still only see shapes and forms, but he could at least identify that as a light.
This had to be a hospital.
Hope fills the detective's heart as his ears begin to function again. The shapes come slowly in clarity, as he could begin to hear the loud ring of tinnitus. He must have been found in the basement by EMTs. They rescued him, and he was being revived in a hospital. This must have been a surgical table, or something similar. He could have been a coma, that must be it. He moves his tongue around, his smell and taste coming back into effect as the tinnitus falls into the sounds of muttering around him. Hospitals had surgeons, they would strip him down for surgery. And of course, they had hospital beds, or operating tables. Hospitals had all those things.
Hospitals don't smell like this.
The thick stench of sepsis surges into Daniel's nostrils, twisting through his sinuses straight into his mouth. The aromas of rot and disease roll off his tongue, gagging the detective as he begins to choke. He wriggles again, an involuntary spasm overtaking him. And the shapes begin to sharpen, the sounds begin to hasten. And soon he realizes that those were not words that made up the mutterings. He tries to turn his head, but Daniel finds that his head is fixed straight up ahead. He turns his eyes, focusing on the figures in the corner of them. And soon, in spite of their humanoid frames, he realizes that they are far from human. They couldn't be human; he prayed that they weren't ever human. Humans weren't that large. Humans weren't so unbalanced. Humans couldn't survive with so many holes in them, with so many appendages writhing in them. Daniel Jack latches his eyes straight up to the light, squinting as he continues to writhe in the straps. And hoarsely, weakly, he attempts to rasp out.
"Where am I!?"
It's been months since Daniel was last standing on his own two feet. Well, aside from the one accident, but the locust minion responsible for that was destroyed. The good Doctor Tessitore has actually lost track of how -many- times she's had to move the comatose Interpol agent, but as one of her prized test subjects, turning the agent loose is simply not an option.
One of the lab assistants happens to be in the vicinity when Daniel starts choking and gagging. Which is probably a good thing, because if she weren't, he might choke on his own bodily fluids. The lab assistant arrives at his side, setting her clipboard down just as the agent begins to resolve the issue, one hand going to her ample chest as she breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh, good, I'm glad--"
But then Daniel attempts to speak, and she falls silent. "... Maybe you should speak to the doct--"
Daniel will be able to see a long thin line fly across his vision. In the dimness it will be difficult to make out, even moreso as the line is silhouetted, but further analysis might reveal the silken threads of a spider's web.
But he would then find the entire gurney shaking as if struck by a large impact. The brakes on the wheels weren't as secure as they should be -- the bed rolls about four feet before the wheels roll over an intravenous line, bringing it to a halt.
The cause of the impact? A 5' 5" Italian woman, who's now clinging to the rolling bedframe. Her hands are clutched around Daniel's shoulders, her toes straddling on either side of him -- it might look like she was trying to do pushups atop Daniel. It'd be difficult for most people to hold this position, but the Italian has four long spider legs protruding from her back -- and these are taking similar positions along the sides of the gurney, keeping her supported.
"You're finally awake! Good!" chirps Dr Tessitore, as one of her four spider legs swabs a damp cloth against Daniel's forehead. She cranes herself up so that she can stare Daniel back in the eyes -- though it might be difficult for him to see any details of her silhouetted face. "You are... in Majigen. Again! People keep messing with my laboratories, so I've had to relocate here for now. You've been in a coma for... gosh. A month or two?"
She's leaving details out, almost assuredly.
"Now, are you awake enough to tell me what the heck that... -thing- crawling inside you is? Or, um... /was/?"
There were three stages of grimacing for the detective.
The first stage comes as the narrow thread trickles before his eyes. And slowly, slowly he feels himself being pulled along, being wheeled towards some unseen point. Focusing his eyes on the thread, he blocks out all other stimuli as fear rouses him into action. He knew what that was. That was a spider thread. A big one. And now, it was pulling him towards... towards something.
The detective's breathing hastens.
The second stage comes as an Italian woman mounts herself right above the detective. Normally, such a moment wouldn't be a problem for the detective. In certain circumstances, being bound up and approached by a beautiful woman would in fact be a net positive. But as he considers that there was very little pressure on his body, his intense brown eyes glance aside. As he sees the outline of sleek, spindly legs, he finalizes stage two of grimacing, as his nostrils flare from intense breathing.
Daniel swallows hard as the woman fixes herself right in front of his eyes.
The final stage of grimacing comes as she explains details of what has happened to Daniel. Coma for months. Majigen. Laboratories. Every detail is repeated silently by the detective, his lips moving wordlessly as he begins to involuntarily squirm again. And then she talks about something crawling in him. Something. In him. Something. The final stage of the grimace ends with the detective shutting his eyes tight, in a futile attempt to return back into the safety of oblivion.
It takes a long, laborous moment for Daniel Jack to inhale.
Exhaling, the detective relaxes himself. He slowly opens his eyes again, unable to focus on the woman. But his words come steadily, slowly, softly. An attempt at composure, to get his bearings. He had to play it smart. Careful. He stops his squirming, forcing his body to relax as he stares straight ahead. "Crawling in- My memory is... awfully fuzzy right now. I'm Daniel Jack, Agent of Interpol." He feigns reciting, as if he is trying to get his memory together. "I remember... I remember helping the locals here in Majigen. But I can't quite remember anything else just yet, Miss... Miss..." Daniel Jack pauses, trying very hard to glance back over to those nightmarish legs.
"What was your name again, ma'am?"
Dr. Tessitore cranes her head to the side as Daniel exhibits his belabored responses. If she were more insightful of human behavior, she would recognize that he was deliberately slowing the pace of the conversation to a less frenetic level -- countering her rapid-fire statements with more focused, intentional thoughts. She -wants- answers -- but it seems that she'll have to wait for them.
But, to her credit, she also recognizes that he's probably not too keen on being talked to as if he was the spider hybrid's next meal. Curbing her enthusiasm a few notches, the hybrid lifts herself off the bed, her augmented appendages gradually shifting her weight to allow her to slip down to the floor without causing too much undue shaking of the gurney. With a meek expression -- borderline apologetic, really -- she smiles back to Agent Little. "It's okay," she consoles, "take all the time you need."
As her assistant moves off, it may be noted that her motion is... unnaturally smooth, as if she was gliding rather than walking. In truth, Milena has the lower body of a snake -- a fact which might be lost if Dr. Tessitore weren't also reaching up to release the straps binding Daniel's head to the gurney. Now standing beside Daniel, it becomes clear she's trying to mimic the bedside manner of a /proper/ doctor, now.
"I'm Dr. Tessitore. You can call me Tess, if you like? I forgive you for forgetting, it's not only been months, but... well, I can imagine it was kind of chaotic having that skate rat's thoughts intermingling with your own!"
Slow and steady, Daniel Jack.
The details of the situation were unveiling themselves piece by piece, sliver by sliver. When you are strapped to a hospital bed, absolutely helpless to whatever anybody does to you, you had to do what you could to get control of the situation. The only power Daniel had was knowledge, and apparently withholding something that he would be the only one that would, or could, know. Pacing was important; he had to not only keep this woman from doing... doing other horrible things to him, but also find out what it is that he is supposed to know.
Without knowing what it is.
Every time the strange woman made a sudden move, the detective instictively twitched, attempting to respond with a defensive stance. Every shake, every shudder, was from the fear sitting in the agent of Interpol's heart. He was afraid. And this woman was... not human. As his head becomes unstrapped, he quickly looks around. Rolling his neck, he stares heavily at the nurse's snake torso, eyes wide. If his grimace could become any more grim, it would. Monsters. Monsters all around him. He turns his head back to meet blearly eyes with the woman beside him.
The good doctor was asking him a question.
"Tess. Nice name." The detective states with a brief, warm tone, in spite of his grimace. "I hope that hasn't been the first time I've said that." He tries to get a read on the woman, trying to analyze and study her expressions. Any tells would be invaluable, if there were any human tells on her face. He... he tries not to reflect on what 'months' mean. What she was doing to him in those months. He didn't even know if he was in his own body properly. Maybe he was now one of those monsters? But as she continues, mentioning about the 'skate rat,' the detective imagines for a moment a cross between a sting ray and a rodent, trying to make sense of what she was talking about.
And then he understands.
In a miracle for medical science, Daniel Jack somehow makes his grimace more grim. Sweat pours across his brow. His heart rate surges. "Oh." He says. "Oh no. That- Scratch." He says bluntly, swallowing hard. "Right. She could read my mind. I could read her mind." Cold sweat beads across the whole of his skin, as he stares into the woman. Scratch. He remembered her. And... a realization came across his mind. The detective suddenly pulls, struggling against the straps as he tries to rise up. Righteous instincts were overcoming him.
"What did you do with her!?"
Tess's clipboard sways slightly as she listens carefully to the Interpol agent's words. According to her instruments, Daniel shouldn't be quite -this- groggy. Perhaps there's a psychosomatic reason for his lethargy, she considers ... but with the amount of drugs she's already pumped into Daniel over the past few weeks, she feels like cutting the man a break for now.
Especially with him being as apparently skittish as he is now. Defenseless, and yet, constantly on the defensive, eking out what little ground is actually present -- this seemed to be a common point among her 'patients' of the past. Tess isn't a people-person, but she's starting to learn a few things about human nature.
She already knows enough to smile when she's been given an honest compliment. "You're so sweet! Thank you!" This much, at least, is not an act: it's rare that the doctor gets compliments. And even rarer are they honest ones, at that.
But as open as she is with her emotions, all she's getting is increasingly vexed grimaces from Daniel. She doesn't know what to make of it until he mentions Scratch. "... Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes, she... she's doing fine." She pauses for a moment, touching her finger to her lip, and then steps back. "Milena, could you... tilt the bed so our guest can see me more easily? I haven't been ogled enough lately!" A slight blush crosses her cheeks, but its intensity pales next to her mirthful smile. Or the twitching of the gargantuan spider legs sprouting from her back.
As her snake-bodied assistant tilts the bed to a small incline, it becomes obvious that Dr. Tessitore isn't -quite- as monstrous as she might have seemed -- she could pass for human, if not for the spider legs or the craziness. She's got the body of a fashion model, though the formless lab coat hanging from her shoulders isn't doing her any favors. "I guess... you need a bit more of that story, Agent Little... You see, there was... an event." The claws of her spider legs rendezvous at her temples, tapping them repeatedly and thrumming in a relatively steady cadence. "Normally, the circlets are supposed to resonate along with your heart -- the beat is steadily controlled by your own heartrate."
Her spider legs move in a steadily quickening beat as she speaks. "But what happened here was a feedback loop -- as your fight progressed onward, and your synchronization with your partner increased, the circlets began to draw on both your heartbeat and those of your partner, and that itself would induce further stress on both of you..."
The spider legs are rapidly and violently thrown away from her, knocking over a small rolling table full of surgical tools, sending them clamoring to the floor. (A sigh can be heard from behind Daniel's bed, as Milena begrudgingly moves to clean up the mess. She probably does this a lot.) "And... well. You all blacked out. Completely without warning. ... She was fine, and your two opponents were... fine."
A blush returns to her cheeks for a moment as she gets her train back on its track. "... They're fine," she stammers, looking away. "Doctor-patient confidentiality, Agent, you understand..."
Coughing lightly into the crook of her arm, she looks at the clipboard again. "But you? Something happened with you. I couldn't... really sedate you at all. It's like another... you was taking over. Raving mad. Lunatic. I had no idea..."
Dr. Tessitore is going to be out tomorrow and Monday. Gonna see Echosmith and Lindsey Stirling in concert. +_+
Dr. Tessitore says, "Also, the LOG IS RUINED NOW."
Dr. Tessitore says, "GOSH."
Agent Little could really make them blush sometimes.
"Oh, I understand Doctor." Daniel states with a calm, understanding tone, nodding his head with a coy look. "So you are saying it was not just a mental link, but a link between hearts. And as one of us got more stressed, then it put more strain on the other's heart, which in turn put more strain on the other person's heart... It was a miracle that everyone didn't straight out keel over from heart attacks." Daniel groans a bit, wiggling. Of course, Daniel was beginning to notice that he wasn't nearly as groggy as he thought he was. But being groggy meant he was harmless; harmless meant that there wouldn't be a round of 'protective measures' to put him in a coma for another few months. Besides, It wasn't clear what fine was.
For all Daniel knew, snake nurse and spider lady could be the definition of 'fine.'
The details unfolded before the detective like a journal. A journal from a madwoman, but still careful documentation from a dieseased mind. When he blacked out, he couldn't be sedated. Someone was taking over him, a kind of possession. Daniel Jack had no memory of that, not even shadows of rememberance. And it was raving mad, a complete lunatic by the good doctor's standards. An answer forms in Daniel's mind, an instinct.
The Spirit of Todoh?
No. He couldn't jump to that conclusion. While Master Todoh was eccentric, and the spirit of Todoh-Ryuu could share in his... unique perspectives on the rules and regulations of reality, the Agent of Interpol had to reject that it could truly make him mad beyond madness. There were... there were other things that could have caused it. And he wasn't eager to create an opportunity for Doctor Tess to find out on her own. The detective felt like a frog in a highschool bio lab right now; and Daniel just had a hunch that the spider woman was morally and ethically capable of carving him open. He had to find a way out of here...
And do it in one piece.
No, as he glances around the examination room casually, he continues to pry. "I might have a few... preexisting conditions that could have triggered it. I'm surprised someone of your professional standards didn't have me fill out a form on them. Maybe you could sort out the symptoms, and we can get to the bottom of this." The detective gives a toying smirk at the good Doctor. "Of course, being that they might be a bit... private..." He glances halfway towards Milena, keeping his voice low. "I would prefer a little privacy before I get into those details."
"You did say something about doctor-Patient confidentiality?"
Dr Tessitore keeps a close eye on the detective as he begins processing the information she conveys. She has much to convey, and he seems to be able to keep up with her in all but one aspect -- the apparent need to restate what she just said in a manner that would make it clear to any listener exactly what happened. Succinctness, and conciseness -- a challenge to her scattered delivery. Her response is snappish and clipped: "Yes, it was a feedback loop." Didn't she just say that?
Perhaps this lack of proper bedside manner is why she does not have a real medical degree.
Swallowing a gulp of air, she forces good cheer back into her expression. "So yes. It could have been much worse, we were lucky that even one of you survived." Tess finds herself staring back at Daniel's eyes for a moment, before questioning herself: "... I mean, all of you -did- survive, which is a lot better than just one, just saying..." She pauses perhaps a bit too long than necessary before adding a somewhat awkward laugh: "Ahahaha!"
She is mindful of him testing his bonds, and looking around the room, and at Milena. The Doctor, too, glances over at Milena, who rolls her eyes in response and slithers away to a spot behind Daniel. When Daniel admits a ... preexisting condition and stresses the need for privacy, Tess... responds in a curious fashion.
She sputters, "Y-you just want to get me and you in a room together, ahaha?!" A red stain floods her cheeks as she raises a hand to her mouth. "You know, flattery will get you everywhere, right?"
The sound of a metal tray can be heard behind Daniel, and the bed suddenly lurches forward upon its wheels. "Room A23, Doctor," comes the witheringly direct statement from snake-bodied lab assistant Milena, as she begins wheeling the patient to a room by himself. Apparently she's (a) used to the doctor's antics, and (b) not in the mood for the doctor's antics.
"What, what?" Tess stammers, looking back at her assistant as she facilitates providing Daniel with exactly what he asked for: privacy. "I--" Once Milena has rolled the bed a few feet, Tessitore finally catches on that Daniel wasn't flirting with her -- well, not -precisely- -- and jogs to catch up.
"W-well, then!" she continues, slowing to walk alongside Daniel. "The pre-existing condition is -exactly- what I want to talk to you about. The pre-existing condition is not exactly one that... happens... naturally?"
Milena's grumble is audible. "Doctor-patient confidentiality..." she prompts.
Tess grits her teeth, glaring back at Milena. "You're no fun."
The rest of the walk to room A23 is quiet and uneventful, insomuch as one can ignore the sounds of other patients moaning and groaning about their newfound additions and/or modifications. As Milena sets the locks -- don't ask how a snake is able to kick those wheel brakes shut -- she slithers on out with a deadpan, "Have fun," in departure.
As the door shuts, Tess spreads her arms out, allowing her spider limbs begin peeling the white jacket off of her shoulders. "Ugh. It's so hot in these tiny rooms, isn't it?" Her spider appendages drape the lab coat onto a hook at the back of the door, as the Italian tilts her head towards Daniel once again. She waits all of a half-second before blurting out, "You've got some kind of monstrous growth inside you. It's kind of gross! And it's not human. So I was wondering if you got attacked by a, um... 'creature of the night' any time in the past, oh, twelve months or so. Possibly impregnated... Excuse the poor word choice." She tilts her head to the side, one eye wincing shut as she asks, "Ringing any bells?"
Daniel catches that blush.
Her sharp words come out, making Daniel nervous for a minute. But once that full faced flush comes, the Agent of Interpol smells blood. As Milena works hard to compensate Dr. Tess for her lack of social talents and graces, the detective casts a glance over to her. She was too good at her job. And now, she was going to be out of the way. Just Daniel himself, and the strange spider woman. It might be dangerous to be trapped alone in the room with a crazed abomination like that. But then again.
Flattery might certainly get him anywhere.
Daniel remains silent as he is carted along. His expression was calmer now, relaxed. Of course, once he starts hearing the moans and groans of the suffering patients, the detective starts sweating again. It is only when they are finally in room A23 does he speak up."Yes! Quite warm!" He states, the sweat rolling down his face. As she begins to remove the labcoat, however, the detective suddenly gets cool. Ice cool. "Don't be upset about your bluntness, Doctor. Now that we are alone, I can feel...
"Much more comfortable to open up to you."
That smile returns, this time far more charming than before. "To answer your question, doctor, I was in fact assaulted by a supernatural creature recently. A creature by the name of 'The Butcher.' Lots of teeth, and I think it ate souls? I spoke to an expert on the matter, who I will keep anonymous, and he stated that I was missing a piece of my soul. And my own interviews with one of its.."
The detective pauses, his smiling fading to a wince as he remembers.
"... With one of its victims, someone who suffered a far worse assault. I remember she was a stuttering, stammering mess. I myself was suffering a great deal of listlessness, ennui, and unable to focus after the attack. A sheer feeling of emptiness. And she had it worse. I thought I got treatment for it, but... You found that it was still inside me." Daniel fall silent for a minute, before worming his legs around.
"Do you mind if I stretch my legs a bit, Doctor?"
Dr Tessitore flashes a smile back at Daniel as he commisserates about the heat. "I halfway think Milena forgets how cold-blooded she's gotten from time to time, it's really -much- too hot for my tastes." Tess never got the part of the schooling that says one has to dress like a doctor, instead preferring more flashy fabrics -- such as today, where she wears a sleeveless, deep scarlet blouse and a jet black miniskirt. If one is willing to look past the twitching spider appendages protruding from her back, she'd look more at home on a dance floor than on the hospital floor.
The drawback to Tess' capricious desires, though, is that she seems curiously dense against the detective's cool demeanor, now that she no longer has Milena to drive insane. She shrugs off the comment about her bluntness by tousling her fingers through her curls, and seems unaffected by the outpouring of charm that follows: all-business, now, perhaps?
The Butcher. Lots of teeth. Possibly a devourer of souls. "... That would match the profile, yes." She retrieves a pad of paper and a pen from the deep pockets of her lab coat, turning downward to make a few denoations on such. "Listlessness... ennui..." she repeats, "... yes. Our Savior... has been keeping his eye on this 'Butcher.', but sadly, we've gained no leads on where he could be. Or even... why he failed to make any appearance at all with all that was going on in the City."
She muses quietly for a moment, one hand sweeping a few loose strands of hair away from her glasses. Her spider legs, though... dig into her lab coat again seemingly of their own mind.
Daniel makes a request, and Tess seems to give it serious thought for a moment, tapping her chin with a dainty little finger. "In... In a moment? I mean, haha, I =will=, it's not like you're going anywhere with the legions of locusts flapping about here, but I need to try something first..."
Withdrawn from another lab coat pocket is a small device with three buttons on it, about the size of an egg. The spider appendages drop the device into Tess' awaiting hands, and she flashes Daniel a brief smile. "You're conscious and intelligible now, so... can you do me a favor?"
Without -really- waiting for a response, she adds, "Tell me if this hurts!" And her thumb jabs into one of the recessed buttons on a remote actuator.
According to Tess' research, the device should give a strong electrical charge to the monstrous organism trapped within Daniel. It shouldn't hurt him... unless it's tapped directly into his nervous system.
Hence the test. And Tess's overly expectant smile as she awaits the results.
%When flirting gets nowhere, Daniel Jack gets worried. He listens carefully to her own responses; he was looking for the Butcher as well? Wait, who was he? The question dances in Daniel's mind as he DOES notice the daintily delicate spider legs reaching in for -something.- When she pulls out the sphere, the detective's brow furrows. "That's not a vibrating egg, is it-" And then she pushes the button.
So some important facts for Doctor Tess:
It seems that yes, it is attached to his nervous system.
Daniel Jack screams in pain as the electricity runs through him. "AAAGH! AAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Body spasming, the pain soon dulls. But does not disappear.
And promptly, he begins to vomit.
Heaving up only god knows what, the detective finally feels the pain fade. Along with almost all other feelings. The emptiness of his soul surges up, the affliction from before consuming him quickly. His bright expression and contorted agony were both distant memories; in its place was only a few muscle spasms, a distant gaze, and gornwing. "It..." Daniel Jack sighs. "It hurts Doctor, and I don't really care."
Daniel pauses a moment.
"... What did I throw up?"
The real way to Dr. Tessitore's heart is to appeal to her ego, and solving mysteries is one possible route. Unfortunately, as she witnesses the abject failure of her hypothesis, all Daniel Jack will be getting is a frown from the lovely doctor, as she takes a step back from the fluid discharged from his mouth.
Suffice to say, it's not a vibrating egg -- and Tess seems utterly displeased by it, setting it back into her pocket. "Guess I don't need buttons two and three. Yay, science?!"
As Daniel asks his question, Tess stares back at the brownish-grey fluid. It's mostly liquid, which is both a plus and a minus, really. She doesn't seem too terribly put out by the smell -- working with the creatures under Jedah's control has destroyed the majority of the med student's scent receptors. Her description is clinical and dry: "Partially digested protein slurry. Typical diet for coma patients. Ummmm... let's just say it's like a milkshake, except it's lukewarm and doesn't taste yummy." She reaches for a roll of paper towels, and begins to clean up the patient -- it -is- kind of her mess, and she doesn't particularly enjoy the process.
"Sadly, this means that the... remnants of the Butcher have thoroughly entwined themselves with your body, which means extraction could be painful, at -best-." She has enough manners to not specify the worst case.
"So... it looks like you're stuck with that, at least. If you paid to have it removed, it's time to start looking into refunds."
She gets the majority of the mess cleaned up before proceeding to release the straps holding Daniel to the bed. It's just loose enough so that he can release the last strap, if and when he's ready for that, considering his recent malady. Tossing the paper towels into the biohazard canister, she adds, "... I'm going to have to think further on your course of treatment for a moment, but if you'd like to freshen up, here's a shower for you?" Good thing Milena thought ahead, at any rate.
Self-consciously, Tess finally remembers to look down at her outfit, finding a stray reminder of what just took place. -There's- the wrinkled nose of disgust...
It wasn't the first time Daniel disappointed a woman so profoundly.
Through the haze of ennui and apathy, the detective would have been very easily forced back through the process of 'medical experimentation.' This time, would it be another number of months? In this world, it could quickly become years. If he would even wake up; or wake up as Daniel Jack. In the dark pit of himself, a light flares up within his soul. The burning spirit of Todoh boils up, and the Agent of Interpol suddenly throws off the shackles of misery.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Doc."
Daniel Jack pops off the last strap, and with a heave, pushes himself off the table. It felt like he was muttering under a mask, he still felt distant. But in spite of the darkness within him clinging on, the detective fights back hard. Inspite of the bile and slime, the detective looks the spider woman right in the eye. "I'm all for a course of treatment, but now that I'm awake, I'm fine. See? I'm feeling great!" And with that, Daniel Jack steadily moonwalks across the floor. Sliding from side walk to toe stand, the detective swings his arms slowly back and forth. Circling around Doctor Tess, he spins in place once, and reaches for where his hat would be... and looks disappointed when it isn't there. Glancing back to Doctor Tess, the detective goes right to his knees, and reaches out for her... spider limb, to hold it in the palm of his hands. "Please Doc, I'm begging you..."
"Don't leave me with the St. James Infirmary Blues, doc."
Dr Tessitore had failed to account for a number of variables in her research. One -- without knowing the -cause- of the infestation, she hadn't had any idea it would have a corresponding effect on Daniel's personality. The nausea was completely understandable, from a physiological standpoint; the ennui, less so.
It only becomes obvious to her when she delivers bad news, and the Interpol agent's response is to act like nothing's wrong. She's had enough clinical experience to recognize the signs here -- impress the doctor with how great you feel so that you can leave earlier, right?
The moonwalk... well. She's seen the dance, but she is past the age of being able to place it as anything more than a relic of the long-gone eighties and nineties. Let alone the 1930s reference. Result: a befuddled expression upon the doctor's face. A slight tinge of pink stains her cheeks at the gentlemanly cradling of her spider claw; without that, there's hardly any response at all.
Well, until she covers her mouth with a hand, stifling a polite giggle, anyway. "Awwh, that's sweet! But it will take more than a song and dance to get you free of my web, Agent Little." She raises a finger, as her remaining three spidery hands bunch up at her hips. "The last time I tried to be nice to you regular human-types, I got a few cracked ribs and a broken leg for the trouble. So here's the score."
One spidery limb holds up a deliciously sharp finger. "Point One: You want to get back home." A second finger is added: "Point Two: You'd -prefer- to stay human. I understand these two points, but you need to understand the next points."
Here, she switches to counting with her human hands. Maybe Daniel's dancing -did- get her in a better mood than she's willing to admit, because she starts tapping her foot lightly -- not impatiently, just... idly. "Point Three: We want the Butcher defeated, and we want his -remains-. Point Four: If we have those, we'll be able to get rid of the rest of that junk inside you. That guy will be an autopsy smorgasboard!"
One spider limb plucks up the egg-shaped remote and holds it high, out of reach. "And... Point Five: We can help you defeat him, but if you break -my- trust...?"
She lowers her chin, lips carving into a frown, her glasses reflecting twin crescents of light. Her eyes rendezvous with Daniel's as she cautions, "There's another two buttons I haven't even tried yet."
The impending threat delivered thusly, she breaks into a more amiable -- daresay, flirty -- smile.
"So, would you like to get out of here ASAP, or after a hot candlelit meal with your even-hotter healthcare provider?" It seems she -isn't- missing all the signs after all.
To be fair, nobody's really been able to predict Daniel very well.
Dragon Lady didn't count.
The detective was, in spite of his status as an International Detective of Interpol, was still in depth with his wild card roots. Even with the spiritual poison winding itself around the detective's psyche, he was fighting it with an iron resolve. And in the face of of bizarre humanoid abominations, Daniel uses the powers of song (well not really) and dance (after all, he WAS the Zoot Suit Detective!) to change his fate. It was obvious flattery; it was obvious wooing.
But it seemed like the Good Doctor was getting a change of heart.
Daniel wasn't often considered charming. 'Adorable' might be more common. After all, it was hard to be charming when upchucking your guts. And yet, as he holds the spider woman's hand, he just forces out a hollow smile of pure charm. It would take a little more to get out of her web. But when escaping webs, it is better to be released than to force your way out. As that woman giggles, Daniel holds steady, that plastic smile across his face. He could try, but his soul couldn't be in it. A soulless smile.
Thoughts of a certain TV cowgirl comes to mind.
But the woman puts down rules, terms, and conditions. The detective holds steady, listening to each one with rapt attention, that smile across his face. Leaving here, and as a human? Fantastic start. But as three and four come down, the smile cracks a bit. Catch the butcher, and bring the remains to them? Might cause some problems with the paperwork. And might be dangerous. After all, -who- was we here still? And the fifth item comes down. Betray her? She didn't even need to make a threat.
But the final offer is what gives Daniel pause.
Daniel knew that he shouldn't. Daniel knew that everything pointed to NOT having a romantic evening... morning... afternoon? What time was it right now? In any case, having romantic dinners with psychopaths was not a good idea. HE knew that. He had experience about what happens when you do that. Good experiences... No, no they were bad. The blackness sitting in his soul suddenly recoils. Was it the power of love? Or was it sensing a powerful new taste of misery, and allowing Daniel to take it. He had an iron resolve. He should be able to fight this.
"Well, I can't turn down a fantastic meal with a fantastic woman." Daniel Jack says with a new passion taking a smile. "Alright, I will agree to all six. Just remember that the Butcher is a criminal in our international courts; I'll need to sort out some paperwork for our legal requirements. And as for you my sweet Doctor..." Daniel Jack suddenly rises up, moving in closer, looking Doctor Tess right in the eyes. "What's all this about 'regular human types.' You make yourself sound like someone different, someone outside the norm. It doesn't matter what you are on the outside. Because here..." And Daniel Jack points towards her chest, winking with his right eye.
"Right here in your heart is where it counts."
With surprising speed and agility, the detective suddenly slides right beside the woman, the crook of his arm out. It seemed that the detective had more energy than he let on. Or at least NOW he does. "Would you mind escorting me to find a change of clothing? I would be honored in you introducing me to the fashions of this... realm." Daniel Jack was either doing something completely stupid, or absolutely brilliant. But one thing was for certain: He was going to regret everything. Not that he was notice it right now.
After all, what was a few more hours in hell?
Dr Tessitore's smile lasts even throughout Daniel's lack of unbridled enthusiasm for her third, fourth, and fifth conditions. A cracked smile is something that even the spider-woman with the terrible reads on human psychology can pick up -- mostly because she'd -expected- the terms to meet with some resistance. But... really? Those are a bargain.
"I know it is a bit much to ask! But given that my employer really has no qualms about killing me and then resurrecting me for an infinity of torment... well, I kind of need to play by his rules...? I hope you understand!"
Not to mention... the impending threat of an undead army might be enough to... encourage him to stem the possible collateral damage that might result from keeping the remains -too- securely. How much muscle does Interpol -keep- around their priceless relics anyway?
Still... she can only assume that her terms are agreed to once Daniel meets her advances head-on. She doesn't question whether the smile is a genuine one or simply a hollow mask: what matters to the Italian spider-woman is that compliments are tendered in her geneal direction.
"Not at all! I would love to escort a perfect gentleman such as yourself!" She walks with Daniel, arm-in-arm through the door of the examination room. "But first... a stop by the linen closet..."
Milena looks up from her clipboard with a raised eyebrow at the scene she's presented with: her very inhuman boss walking side-by-side with a human identified as the enemy. Lord Dohma is not going to like this. But, the snake-lady realizes with a smile, she might get some amusement out of this all the same.
Log created on 12:21:11 06/15/2015 by Daniel, and last modified on 16:14:48 09/12/2015.