EVENTS:

Rosa attempts to pull out Klimt, but her arms have transformed into handless, gun-covered masses of sharkskin and gun barrels. After some fumbling, the boy manages to extricate himself from his fleshy prison.

Returning to human form, he walks over to the burnt carcass, and looks at the small pile of remains Eigla unceremoniously drops at his feet. A quarter of a brain, still attached to an eye. A broken, semi-toothless jaw. A single breast, a couple feet of intestine, and a skinned foot. Just enough Flesh to fit in a medium-sized bucket.

Not much, is it?


As the shieldmaiden repairs her own jaw and leaves to grab some gasoline from the truck, Malia turns her attentions to Rosa's broken body. The sharkgirl's coffin has already printed a set of bone patches for her pelvic structure, but she'll definitely need some help to attach it. Heck, she can barely breathe, as it stands.

It takes quite some time to cut out all the deformed guns, and reconnect the severed nerves. Rosa's spine seems to have permanently bent backwards, however, and her abdomen has burst once again, exposing the source of her bloating: A large, blood-red, vein covered sphere, pulsating ominously. She can crawl backwards on her leg stumps and hands, like a deformed crab, but actually standing is a thing of the past. Compared to this - Well, perhaps being a shark wasn't so bad after all. Rosa grimaces, once again a prisoner of her body. It's like sinewy, muscular walls were closed around her, restricting her every movement.


Eigla returns with a jerry can, and douses the remains in flammable liquid. All that's left is burning it all down. Who should have the honors?

EVENTS:

Eigla lights a soggy old cigarrette she found in the mansion, pretends to smoke it for dramatic effect, then flicks it at the flesh pile.

FWOOSH

She walks away without looking back even once. Threat eliminated.


Rosa, aided by her shieldmaiden, makes her way back to the truck. She's considerably slower in this form, and having to crawl backwards is very uncomfortable. Still, the low center of gravity means she should be more stable versus movement-inducing attacks.


Malia reluctantly interfaces with the (rather tasty-looking) bag of remains. There, is, some sort of consciousness there, or at least a few memories, but they seem all scrambled, nearly catatonic. Seems like the trauma was too much to bear.

It might get better, or it might not. Only time will tell.



Klimt's followers approach him from behind. Curie is silent, looking down, but Emilia attempts to comfort him, after some hesitation.

Emilia: "...Klimt. I know, my mind is just a pale imitation of yours, right now. But, I think I know how you feel right now. How, you felt about her.

You didn't deserve this. I won't let this rotten world hurt you again. I promise."

EVENTS:

Rosa moves to the side of the truck, and compares their sizes.

She's... The larger of the two, definitely. Boarding doesn't seem to be an option, unless she fancies riding on the roof. And even then, there's no guarantee the engine would be able to take the extra weight.