trans_9 | (no subject)

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Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There was condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in oblong glowing things that were clustered along the floors and walls of the huge, ancient-looking caverns.

For now, the ones that were cracking were the closest to the floor, but perhaps later, the figures sliding out of the pods would be sliding out onto the slimy walkways and platforms above.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.

There was light, and unconscious minds breaking through the top of the briny, harsh waters of consciousness, as their bodies did similarly and broke free from the pods, sliding to the floor, shivering in pools of slime.

Once the temporary blindness that some of them had passed, and once they were free of their sleepy stupors: somebody had some splainin' to do.

But there would be no explanations, as the only thing that could explain was only watching, silently, almost as a mother would look at their child right after it was born.

Pop. KASCHUNKhissss.

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"If you had anything to bet, I would wonder where you were keeping it."

Deep breath. "Aliens. Aliens are better than--"

What could she call that? What could she call Silent Hill?

"Sci fi is better than horror, at least. So long as we're not dealing with the kind of aliens you need Ripley around to take care of."

She could deal with this. She could.

It was less horrifying than where she'd been.

"Would you believe where I just came from was worse than this?"

"Yeah, considering you took a good look.." That was the sort of thing he would continue to bring up in al future conversations. "It ruins the mystery, though. Nothing at all left to imagination." For a moment, though, he considered. "We could start betting for favors, of course."

Aliens.. over horror. "What, back to zombies?" Of course he didn't know what she'd meant. His particular tormentors had always been human. Augumented, sometimes, but all-in-all, human. "God, yes, I haven't seen any forklifts or airlocks. Do you think that's classified, too?"

"No. Well, yes. Nobody's come out here to waterboard me, so I guess I've been in darker places, too. Just not recently.." Did he want to know? "Could always be hurting.. or dead, I imagine. Being uncomfortable is a little better." Tony had walked away with an odd perspective on life.

Cybil had an odd perspective on unlife.

She also hadn't walked away.

"To be honest, I'm still not sure I'm not dead."

"This is a pretty far cry from heaven. Even if I did wake up near a naked blonde." That had been one of his criteria for waking up dead. Right?

"Not exactly what I thought hell would be like, either. Not enough fire and brimstone.. even if it smells a bit funny in here."

Was that it? Was he dead? He hadn't remembering doing anything alltogether weird. "I had a pretty normal day, as far as I can remember. I didn't do anything to get myself killed. Actually, that might be an off day for me."

She couldn't help but snort slightly at his criteria.

And then they were in the clothing room, where the lights stopped.

"I thought there were supposed to be clothes here."

||Please step into the center of the room.||

Where the vines dangled.

Waiting.

There was no more path to follow, just a little nook that was still somewhat dim. He had been imagining lockers, or even some cheap racks.

Nope.

"I don't like those. I don't like those at all." The tendrils looked.. ominous, and he couldn't begin to really think of the purpose for them. Though he had the feeling that if he didn't move, Cybil might shove him again, or at least spew something obscene at him.

The compromise was that he inched forward. "Really, just.. show me where the clothes are. I can dress myself. Honest. Been doing it for years. I have good taste, even." This would not end well.

Actually, she was firmly against shoving civilians into ominous-looking vines. "Serve and Protect" and all. That was why, when he inched forward--and the vines reacted by lifting up and lurching towards him, she yanked him backwards by the arm.

"Holy hell!"

Maybe it was just a male thing. It wasn't like he was going to make her go first, cop or not. It just wasn't right, besides, they might go taking his superhero liscense away. He'd just gone through telling her that he had personally seen worse places. Of course, he hadn't seen tentacles getting all grabby until now, either.

They moved towards him, and her hands were on his arm, then, roughly pulling him backwards, and he was glad of it.

"What the.. " She'd more or less summed it up. Holy hell, indeed.. For a moment, he'd gone quiet.

That probably wouldn't last long.

||Please step into the center of the room and you will be clothed.||

"Clothed with what?"

||Clothing.||

At that, all she could do was roll her eyes and mutter: "Jesus Christ."

"Could you be less specific? That wasn't vague enough!" Tony had spit that out, obviously unhappy with this turn of events. "God, just give me a towel or something, that'd be fine."

A loincloth, even.

As long as it wasn't made out of tentacles.

Cybil seemed to make a decision.

"Stacy. Whatever your name is. Are those things going to hurt us?"

||No, Cybil Bennet. They will provide clothing.||

Taking a deep breath, steeling herself up (and had she been remotely religious, she might've crossed herself), and keeping her hand on Tony's arm for a moment, a nonverbal 'Stay here,' she took a few wary steps past him.

"Here's hoping robot voices can't lie..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You believe this thing?" Alright, so he doubted Stacy lied. Why would she lie when she seemed so fond of saying nothing at all? She'd more or less gestured for him to stay put. He comprehended, he just wasn't a good listener.

"Why not, just, like, drop the clothing?" He wasn't a small child that needed velcro shoes. Whatever this thing provided, he could figure it out.

Was he worried about her? Well, no doubt, he was quite worried about himself, but he didn't seem so pleased when she actually moved forward, either.

Wincing slightly, she reached out an arm. The vines reached out gingerly, wrapped around her wrist, and tugged her in.

"Whoa! Whoa!"

Huh. It was putting some sort of thingy on her.

"Okay, it's not killing me..." Yet.

It was sliding some kind of cloth over her torso, her legs...

Well, it was just the scene itself, but he had to look. Not that he really wanted to. It wasn't like he could cover his eyes, they were too busy covering something else, but..

"Oh God, it's alien shrink-wrap." Tony barely made sense even to himself right then, but at least the silly thing didn't go and suffocate her. He was ready for her to start screaming or something.

Then what was he going to go? Go in there and try to fight a bunch of vines? Naked? Let's be realistic, here.

No screaming. The vines placed her down on her feet, and she was now wearing an alien suit of soft green-black material. Skintight, by the way. Not Catwoman skintight, mind you, but it was a bodysuit, not a jumpsuit.

It had veins.

She was paler than she'd been, but not freaking. Entirely.

"Ooooh God, it's throbbing. The suit has a pulse."

Oh that was disgusting.

Well, her calm might be a good thing, because he was mentally freaking out for the both of them. His expression had gone into a careful blank. Tony had a good poker face. He couldn't even name why it was bothering him so much. It just did.

Just the idea of something alive, being all over you, and.. then she spoke, and he actually grimaced. The very idea of it having it's own pulse. "That gives me the heebie-jeebies."

It was a toss up, really. Did he run, screaming and naked, back into the pod room, or did he just man up and deal with it? All right, so there was no choice at all.

He finally stepped towards the middle of the room.

He was clothed in a similar jumpsuit, throbbing and all and placed back down on his feet.

At least he was expecting it, this time. Not that he liked it. A shiver ran over him as the damn things touched him, covering him in.. something. And she was right, the damn thing pulsed. He kept his mouth shut, otherwise he'd probably just embarass himself.

Moreso than he had already.

Feet were back on solid ground, and he stepped away from the ridiculous thing, eyes on himself, his brow furrowing in irritation. A plain jumpsuit wasn't so bad. That would have been the sort of thing he wore under all his gear. This, on the other hand, almost tickled as it settled against his skin. "Green isn't my color." At least it covered that distracting little node on his chest. "I couldn't get this in plain black? Or is that classified?"

Bitching would keep him from feeling queasy. Maybe.

"And thus an era comes to an end."

Of his ass being visible.

She's only flirting as a distraction, Tony. Totally. Juuuust a distraction.

"Stacy, where's my gun? And my badge?"

She wanted it.

She needed it. It was something solid. That reminded her who she was, and she wanted to have it where she could hold it in her hand.