milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's raining in Point Lookout, and foggy, and the word blattering is probably not all that inaccurate a description of conditions on the other side of the door- at least, what can be seen and heard of it through the door of the ancient, decrepit remains of some prewar maintenance shed. Admittedly, there's a slime-and-blood-and-mud-covered power armored figure blocking some of the view. But given that it's Ellen in the slime-and-blood-and-mud-covered armor...

Oh. And there's the head she's carrying.

"Can anybody here identify this thing for me?" comes Ellen's crackly, staticky voice as the door swings shut behind her. She's doing her best not to drip or leave goop or blood behind her as she goes, but... well, given that the thing in question is a spotty yellow-brown, slope-skulled, thick-lipped, lidless head easily the size of half her torso, with barbels as long as her arms coming off either side, the yuk puddles were more or less inevitable.

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"It's dead?" The Fool suggests unhelpfully. He'd offer to help but it'd probably end up hindering her more.

"I should hope so, I went to a lot of trouble to decapitate it," says Ellen. "Ugh, I can smell it even through this thing... is anyone using that table up ahead?"

"Nope! I'll clear it off for you even."

Translated as "yes, but I don't care, you can use it now."

He cheerfully shoves things off the table and moves the chair out of the way.

"Thank you."

She staggers forward and sets the monstrous head down on the table. At least it's not actively bleeding, what with the circulation being long since gone and all, but it is still kinda... oozy.

The Fool pokes it cautiously with his walking stick.

"What did it used to be attached to?"

"Something bipedal and sort of brownish-gray," Ellen says. "About seven feet tall. This was the smaller one. The big one got away."

"How tall was the bigger one?" He wrinkles his nose as it stinks.

"About half a foot taller than that," says Ellen. "I think. It was really a mess, the ground wasn't solid at all... it had broader shoulders, though, and sharper finny claw bits."

"Ooooh."

He bonks it carefully.

"Are you going to mount its head on a wall? I saw this thing once with a fake fish that looked kind of like this and when something moved near it it would start to sing."

"I wasn't planning on it," Ellen says mildly. "I'm in the middle of a mission and it wouldn't be practical to haul it with me. I was hoping someone could tell me whether these things were intelligent or not, so I'd know if it was okay to eat the meat."

Aw. He looks disappointed a little.

"Well, I've never seen one before. They may just be specific to your world."

"It's possible. I'm told other people's worlds don't have mirelurks, either," Ellen says. "Or yao guai. We get a lot of mutated things, really."

"I have no idea what those things are but I'd like to meet them."

"Mirelurks are crab creatures taller than you, upright walking types- heavily armored, bad tempered, but with tasty meat," Ellen says. "And yao guai are gigantic mutant bears that tend to come up behind you very quietly if you don't have a dog or something paying attention."

"Is their skin any good for rugs?"

"Unfortunately no. There's not enough fur on the hide for it to be worthwhile," says Ellen. "It's tough hide, though. You can make decent leather out of it, if you're patient enough."

"Good leather is important. Especially for shoes."

He holds out a foot with a shoe badly in need of repair.

"Oh, I know. I've had to fix my own boots plenty of times..." She considers the shoe a moment. "I won't say I'm good at it, though. I mean, I can make my boots watertight, but the patches are obvious and not very attractive."

(Not that she's wearing leather boots at the moment, or she'd offer them as an example. It's armor all the way down.)

The Fool laughs and gestures at his patched and motley clothes. "That is something I don't have to worry about!"

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