trans_9 | (no subject)

Traci wished this were the first time that she had woken up naked covered in a strange liquid. It was the first time that she had done so without planning to, which was saying something. There might not even be dragons involved this time.

Being an authority on the world's mystic arts and all things magical sort of enabled you to hold your own when thrust into an unfamiliar circumstance. The first thing she did was clear her throat and wipe her eyes free of the mucus, to access the situation.

"Well," Traci 13 said aloud, the light British lilt of her voice penetrating the thick, humid air. "Well, I am definitely naked."

||Do you require clothing?|| asked a very calm, motherly voice in her head.

Traci jumped, startled, at the voice, dispelling the mucus underneath her by slipping to her side, placing her hands against the warm, vaguely beating floor. The floor felt like it was alive.

"Yes," she said outloud, after a minute, testing this. Traci was not frightened by the voice in her head. Telepathy was normal. Being naked and covered in mucus while being contacted telepathically, however, was not. "Yes, I would like clothes. My own, clothes, that is. The ones I was wearing before I was naked."

||Clothing can be provided, but not the clothing you were originally wearing. Do you require clothing?||

Traci paused.

Where was she?

"...Sure. Let's go with that."

Not sure what she was in for, she tried to stand up, and promptly felt her legs buckle underneath her, the muscles soft from lack of use. She fell, comfortably, into mucus. More mucus. Mucus everywhere. Oh, gross. She heard voices beside her, and decided that whatever clothes this thing had was better than bearing her goods to the world.

Phosphorescent lights flickered in pustules along the floor, leading in a little trail through the cavern.

||Follow the lights.||

"What lights?" Her eyes blurred as the sudden light hit them. Her eyes were unused to light and immediately glazed over with pain-induced tears that mixed with the mucus on her face and made it more wet. "Ugh."

She managed to stand and, finding herself steady against the beating wall, took a minute to breathe and access the situation. Naked in an armpit that's talking to me. Jaime'd get a kick out of

Jaime.

The last thing she was doing was getting ready to teleport and see him and she'd baked cookies in the Mansion and she'd talked to the Detective before going and she'd dressed in a jeans and t-shirt and she'd gotten out the staff and she'd been going and--black--and more black--

"What are you? Where am I? And where the hell is Jaime Reyes?" She kept following the light, for sheer force of enthusiastic rage.

||The closest possible pronunciation of my name by human vocal chords is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT, though you may call me Stacy, if you wish. You are here. Jaime Reyes is currently on the Observation Deck.||

"Observation deck?" Observing something. He was here, that was the first thing, and he hopefully was not in pieces.

She continued onward, decided that the tunnel was too dark, and cupped her energy in her palm to provide some fire to light her way further.

Nothing happened.

Well, crap.

"I want to be taken to Jaime Reyes," she said, voice clear, an order. No magic meant she was weak--meant she hadn't been around people for ages--Jaime didn't draw his power from people, merely from himself, and maybe he was alright...