Professor Randolph Lyall (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
professorwolf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-07-30 10:06 pm
professorwolf) wrote in savetheearth2013-07-30 10:06 pm
19th Howl [Audio | Tuesday afternoon]
19th Howl [Audio | Tuesday afternoon]
The house had smelled off ever since Lyall got home from class, like acid wash or soap or those awful little grue things except worse. He was sitting on the couch with more paperwork-- though he was almost finished with most everything up until today, thank god-- while Hajime watched his obnoxious Japanese television... when the scent suddenly intensified and something crashed against the front window.
Something with tentacles and, incongruously enough, a long flowered skirt.
The sound of the crash was enough to tear Hajime away from the terrible soap opera he was watching. Not like he had anything better to do, and not like Lyall knew enough Japanese to know exactly what the show was. (So he thought.) He jumped up from his seat when he heard the crash, and his reflex was to warningly brandish his arm blades at...at...whatever it was.
Apparently, the triple-paned windows were as good as advertised: the glass didn’t even crack, though it did creak alarmingly as whatever that... thing was... smashed limbs repeatedly against it. Or tentacles. Lyall, startled, sent papers flying everywhere as he, too, leapt to his feet. His inclination, however, was to jump behind the couch, rather than to attack.
“What is that?” he squawked, squashing the urge to hide, but definitely bumped back against the couch. The tentacles continued to flail, and someone outside was shouting, or maybe wailing-- hard to hear, what with the thick window glass.
Hajime was moving towards the door now. “Whatever it is, I’m going to try to fight it off...” Whether or not that was actually a good idea was anyone’s guess. “Doesn’t look like it’s going to leave otherwise...” He tried yelling a few words at it in the monstrous language he’d picked up, though he didn’t think that would do much good.
It didn’t. Though when Hajime opened the door, despite Lyall’s abortive motion to maybe stop him, the shouting did indeed become a wail-- a sobbing wail-- in English: “Come ooooout I am lost and alone and huuuuuurt and I don’t understaaaaaaand! Come out so I can kill yoooooou!”
“Hajime!” Lyall cried, as tentacles immediately reached around the porch and towards the young-man-turned-bug.
Hajime’s response was to growl threateningly at the thing that said it had come to kill them. He yelled something back at it in his monster language, mostly because he felt like he needed to return that threat with one of his own and some part of his brain still wasn’t comfortable using such language around an old teacher. He felt his blades would be defense enough against squishy tentacles, so he charged at it swinging.
The wail turned into a scream as Hajime sliced through one of the grasping tentacles, and Lyall could only imagine what the neighbors were thinking-- hopefully none of them were home, or staring out their windows, or calling the police. He gulped and ran towards the door, keeping back from Hajime and his blades, but wanting to see and help, if he could. Despite being rather terrified.
To his intense surprise, what he saw was a mostly human torso and head on top of the writhing mass of tentacles, and that head was recognizably someone he knew. “June?!” he exclaimed, while the human half of the monster recoiled from Hajime and the octopus-half reached for them both again.
At the sound of Lyall saying that name, Hajime hesitated. “You know her?” This was just a human like him, someone who had been transformed...though she was hostile. Very hostile. He swung a blade at those reaching tentacles anyway. There seemed to be no other way for them to defend themselves.
They didn’t really have to, thankfully, because as the tentacles reached for Hajime’s arm blades, the whole of June Bellweather-- or what she’d become-- started to... deflate. It was the only word Lyall could think of to describe it. She started to fall in on herself, shrinking and... melting, almost. The grasping tentacles became weak twitches clutching at whatever came within reach, but without the strength to actually damage it.
At that, Lyall actually came outside, hurrying to her side as she collapsed against the porch and Hajime, both. Her face was streaked with tears. “Randall....”
At this point, Hajime had no idea what was going on, and he shifted gears from aggressive monster mode to just trying to hold the poor woman up without accidentally stabbing her with something. “What the...” He trailed off in a bit of mumbled Japanese, clearly pretty shaken by the sudden development.
That much Japanese, Lyall actually knew, and he shook his head. The English teacher, a middle-aged woman with no family that he knew of, was deflating even further-- her whole body, even the human part, seemed to be eating itself away. He tried to grasp a hand-- it seemed to be more of a collection of smaller tentacles, but that was slipping away, as well, even as it slapped weakly at him as if still trying to attack-- and looked helplessly from her to Hajime. “Inside. Get her inside, hurry. We need to call someone to help-- she’s dying, I can’t--” He broke off, feeling useless and flustered.
Hajime scooped up the fading woman as though she were nothing. The still-slapping tentacles didn’t seem to faze him at all. Really, with the way his strength was and as quickly as she was deflating, she might well have been nothing. He went back into the house, glancing over his shoulder as though he were making sure nothing else was out there. “Network. It’s all we’ve got. You need me to dial?”
Lyall closed the door quickly, after peering outside to see just what had been noticed. A few doors were opening, and he hurried to shut the door on it. There was nothing for it: it was going to be noticed. “I can. Set her on the couch, I’ve got the computer up already anyway.” Like always. He motioned for Hajime to move June Bellweather’s now emaciated and twitching body, coughing weakly as she tried to breathe, and dropped to one knee in front of the coffee table where his laptop was set up.
[Lyall’s voice on the network is a little panicked, and he’s speaking very quickly.]
I need help. My house was attacked by-- by one of my co-workers. Or what used to be one of my co-workers. I think she’s dying. And I think there will probably be police here before too long-- she was making a lot of noise. If anyone can hear this, please-- we need help.
[There’s a sickly-sounding cough in the background, rattling in someone’s very wasted chest.]
Please. Hurry.
((note: Hajime may be replying to this, as well!))
The house had smelled off ever since Lyall got home from class, like acid wash or soap or those awful little grue things except worse. He was sitting on the couch with more paperwork-- though he was almost finished with most everything up until today, thank god-- while Hajime watched his obnoxious Japanese television... when the scent suddenly intensified and something crashed against the front window.
Something with tentacles and, incongruously enough, a long flowered skirt.
The sound of the crash was enough to tear Hajime away from the terrible soap opera he was watching. Not like he had anything better to do, and not like Lyall knew enough Japanese to know exactly what the show was. (So he thought.) He jumped up from his seat when he heard the crash, and his reflex was to warningly brandish his arm blades at...at...whatever it was.
Apparently, the triple-paned windows were as good as advertised: the glass didn’t even crack, though it did creak alarmingly as whatever that... thing was... smashed limbs repeatedly against it. Or tentacles. Lyall, startled, sent papers flying everywhere as he, too, leapt to his feet. His inclination, however, was to jump behind the couch, rather than to attack.
“What is that?” he squawked, squashing the urge to hide, but definitely bumped back against the couch. The tentacles continued to flail, and someone outside was shouting, or maybe wailing-- hard to hear, what with the thick window glass.
Hajime was moving towards the door now. “Whatever it is, I’m going to try to fight it off...” Whether or not that was actually a good idea was anyone’s guess. “Doesn’t look like it’s going to leave otherwise...” He tried yelling a few words at it in the monstrous language he’d picked up, though he didn’t think that would do much good.
It didn’t. Though when Hajime opened the door, despite Lyall’s abortive motion to maybe stop him, the shouting did indeed become a wail-- a sobbing wail-- in English: “Come ooooout I am lost and alone and huuuuuurt and I don’t understaaaaaaand! Come out so I can kill yoooooou!”
“Hajime!” Lyall cried, as tentacles immediately reached around the porch and towards the young-man-turned-bug.
Hajime’s response was to growl threateningly at the thing that said it had come to kill them. He yelled something back at it in his monster language, mostly because he felt like he needed to return that threat with one of his own and some part of his brain still wasn’t comfortable using such language around an old teacher. He felt his blades would be defense enough against squishy tentacles, so he charged at it swinging.
The wail turned into a scream as Hajime sliced through one of the grasping tentacles, and Lyall could only imagine what the neighbors were thinking-- hopefully none of them were home, or staring out their windows, or calling the police. He gulped and ran towards the door, keeping back from Hajime and his blades, but wanting to see and help, if he could. Despite being rather terrified.
To his intense surprise, what he saw was a mostly human torso and head on top of the writhing mass of tentacles, and that head was recognizably someone he knew. “June?!” he exclaimed, while the human half of the monster recoiled from Hajime and the octopus-half reached for them both again.
At the sound of Lyall saying that name, Hajime hesitated. “You know her?” This was just a human like him, someone who had been transformed...though she was hostile. Very hostile. He swung a blade at those reaching tentacles anyway. There seemed to be no other way for them to defend themselves.
They didn’t really have to, thankfully, because as the tentacles reached for Hajime’s arm blades, the whole of June Bellweather-- or what she’d become-- started to... deflate. It was the only word Lyall could think of to describe it. She started to fall in on herself, shrinking and... melting, almost. The grasping tentacles became weak twitches clutching at whatever came within reach, but without the strength to actually damage it.
At that, Lyall actually came outside, hurrying to her side as she collapsed against the porch and Hajime, both. Her face was streaked with tears. “Randall....”
At this point, Hajime had no idea what was going on, and he shifted gears from aggressive monster mode to just trying to hold the poor woman up without accidentally stabbing her with something. “What the...” He trailed off in a bit of mumbled Japanese, clearly pretty shaken by the sudden development.
That much Japanese, Lyall actually knew, and he shook his head. The English teacher, a middle-aged woman with no family that he knew of, was deflating even further-- her whole body, even the human part, seemed to be eating itself away. He tried to grasp a hand-- it seemed to be more of a collection of smaller tentacles, but that was slipping away, as well, even as it slapped weakly at him as if still trying to attack-- and looked helplessly from her to Hajime. “Inside. Get her inside, hurry. We need to call someone to help-- she’s dying, I can’t--” He broke off, feeling useless and flustered.
Hajime scooped up the fading woman as though she were nothing. The still-slapping tentacles didn’t seem to faze him at all. Really, with the way his strength was and as quickly as she was deflating, she might well have been nothing. He went back into the house, glancing over his shoulder as though he were making sure nothing else was out there. “Network. It’s all we’ve got. You need me to dial?”
Lyall closed the door quickly, after peering outside to see just what had been noticed. A few doors were opening, and he hurried to shut the door on it. There was nothing for it: it was going to be noticed. “I can. Set her on the couch, I’ve got the computer up already anyway.” Like always. He motioned for Hajime to move June Bellweather’s now emaciated and twitching body, coughing weakly as she tried to breathe, and dropped to one knee in front of the coffee table where his laptop was set up.
[Lyall’s voice on the network is a little panicked, and he’s speaking very quickly.]
I need help. My house was attacked by-- by one of my co-workers. Or what used to be one of my co-workers. I think she’s dying. And I think there will probably be police here before too long-- she was making a lot of noise. If anyone can hear this, please-- we need help.
[There’s a sickly-sounding cough in the background, rattling in someone’s very wasted chest.]
Please. Hurry.
((note: Hajime may be replying to this, as well!))