Tizmik "Nooksucking" Arudil

Your name is TIZMIK ARUDIL and HOLY FUCK are you AWFUL.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[glowtrolls]

paroxysmalsynthetic:

“Now you stop sniffling,” you growl. You flick your attention between the floor and Nebuka’s face. It’s a test of acrobatics, to hold onto Neb and kick out at the knife at the same time. You miss once, and on the second try you send it skidding…. about a foot. Great job, Tizmik. You can’t reach it to try again now.

“Grub damned shitglobes slurry residue on the bottom of the mothergrub’s asscrack…. Mmmmmph…..” You waffle over the decision briefly, then rapidly shove away from your ‘guest’ and duck into a crouch to grab their discarded weapon.

“Now, you-” Crimeny. You exhale through gritted fangs. You’re not gonna pant, no matter the lightness of your head, because fuckdamn looking weak(er than you already think you do). This is stupid. This is so stupid. Why you? What shitty thing did you do to deserve thi- which shitty thing you did are you being punished for to deserve this? “Mother fucking grub, get the hell outta my hive or, or siddown and lemme grab you a tissue.”

You’re not even sniffling. You’re not! You’re sniffing, there’s a big difference. But you feel like telling her that isn’t gonna do anything for your situation.

She kicks at your knife and dammit, you’re going to have to clean it again - But it barely even slides out of your reach. “Hah! Nice sho - Hey!” Tizmik shoves you away and you flail, grabbing on to the nearest surface to stabilize yourself again. She goes straight for your weapon, and then tells you to get the hell out, and you feel a sharp pang of panic at the thought that she’s going to keep it.

The other option is to sit down and let her pap you, apparently, and you give yourself a moment to revel in the fantasy of strangling her with her dumb, poofy hair for it. “…Fine”, you grit out, wipe at your eye, and then check your hand for makeup smears as you sit.

…The whole side of your hand is black, so you decaptcha your dusty hand mirror and a q-tip and start dabbing, and pointedly ignore the olive stream coming from your nose. (It’s broken.)

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You pocket the knife. Maybe you'll give it back. Maybe. If you like them enough. You're almost annoyed they're staying, as it stands.

...How much makeup are they wearing? Also, why is now the time to fix it? Better not say anything, though, this is a custo- who are you kidding, you're not making a sale after this.

"You got a rich quad, grubcakes?" You toss the entire box of tissues onto the table, because fuck them. "Cos like, most olives don't have the dinero to buy out the whole cosmetic isle." You plop in the chair across from them and pull your emergency antifungal supply out of your 'dex. No, you aren't taking chances there. "Don't bleed on my floor, by the way. Stopper your fucking sniffnub with the sneezepaper."

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[glowtrolls]

You know you have to do as she says here, but you already know that you’re going to feel naked without your weapon.

“Can I lay it on the floor instead?” You’re attached to this thing, so what.  …But that’s the absolute opposite of feasible in the position you’re in, so you sniff a “Fine”, flip it shut, and drop it as gently as you can. You still wince at the noise it makes when it hits Tizmik’s nutrition block floor.

“Okay.” Another sniff, this one a lot more painful than the other ones. What if it’s broken? What if it turns out crooked! What if - 

Maybe you should focus on not dying right now. “Okay”, you repeat, and it’s about as shaky as Tizmik just sounded. “What now?”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

“Now you stop sniffling,” you growl. You flick your attention between the floor and Nebuka’s face. It’s a test of acrobatics, to hold onto Neb and kick out at the knife at the same time. You miss once, and on the second try you send it skidding.... about a foot. Great job, Tizmik. You can’t reach it to try again now.

“Grub damned shitglobes slurry residue on the bottom of the mothergrub’s asscrack.... Mmmmmph.....” You waffle over the decision briefly, then rapidly shove away from your ‘guest’ and duck into a crouch to grab their discarded weapon.

“Now, you-” Crimeny. You exhale through gritted fangs. You’re not gonna pant, no matter the lightness of your head, because fuckdamn looking weak(er than you already think you do). This is stupid. This is so stupid. Why you? What shitty thing did you do to deserve thi- which shitty thing you did are you being punished for to deserve this? “Mother fucking grub, get the hell outta my hive or, or siddown and lemme grab you a tissue.”

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

“It’s my business when you brandish your specibus at me, it’s my business when you bring infection into my hive, you made this my business, mossveins, and now it’s your business to settle your ass down and explain yourself!”

You twist and shift your weight, you try to overbalance and turn them round so they can be held with their back to you. “I offered you help, you miserable case of panrot! I just wanted to know what I needed! This didn’t have to happen, and this doesn’t have to continue! Settle! DOWN!”

You punctuate the last word by smashing your forehead into their nose. Like hell you’re gonna take even minor injuries lying down.

[glowtrolls]

“You’re not listening, wasps for brains, I just told you it’s none - ” Tizmik shifts her weight, too far for you to keep up, and then she’s already tipping her head backwards. Something explodes in your face with an audible ‘crack’ - there’s no hoping and begging that that wasn’t your nose because you immediately just know - and with how she turns you around and away from her, the fact that you’re still clinging to your knife out of pure instinct doesn’t do you any good either.

So you fall back on your second weapon: Your wit. 

“Fine, you win!”, and you don’t even have to play up how desperate you sound through the tears. Convenient! “I’m infected, okay, and too proud to take your help. Stupid me!” You sniff. “But I’m not infectious yet, important difference, and you’re - you’re not at risk. I’m stupid, not cruel. Just - just direct me to your friend and let me go, yeah?”

(There’s no way she’s going to catch on. Why would she? It’s a much more likely story than ‘You just caught a runaway super soldier in your arms, and those flowers cost the Empire a fortune’.)

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

Awful agreeable all of a sudden! Awful suspicious, that. You don't believe them. They're lying, but... not about being non-contagious, you don't think. This ain't the right story, though, you'd bet a month's stipend on it.

"Say I believe that. I'm still gonna need assurance you're not planning to turn back around and cull me. You can drop the knife, for a start." Your voice shakes the slightest bit. Adrenaline.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

Ow, ow, ow. Your ears. Your legs. Your nose. It’s startling enough to almost let go, but you settle for moving your claws to their biceps. It’s easier to control their arms that way anyway.

“Explain!” you holler. “Everything!”

[glowtrolls]

The exact moment that Tizmik moves her mini razors away from your flowers is the moment you can already think clearer, but she just has to go and ruin it by screaming at you to explain.

“Go fuck yourself!” It’s a knee jerk reaction, granted. That doesn’t mean you don’t stand behind that any less, though.

Then you swing again, but with your limited range of movement, you don’t manage much more than a few frustrated, shallow cuts. “It’s not even like you’re at risk! Stop making this your”, half of that word gets swallowed in a big, heaving sob, but you were not done talking. “Your business!” 

You just want her to let go, being immobilized like this is driving you nuts. You want your moirail to swoop in and save you, you want your lusus, you want - To get just one good swing in, one good stab, why is this so hard!

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

“It’s my business when you brandish your specibus at me, it’s my business when you bring infection into my hive, you made this my business, mossveins, and now it’s your business to settle your ass down and explain yourself!”

You twist and shift your weight, you try to overbalance and turn them round so they can be held with their back to you. “I offered you help, you miserable case of panrot! I just wanted to know what I needed! This didn’t have to happen, and this doesn’t have to continue! Settle! DOWN!”

You punctuate the last word by smashing your forehead into their nose. Like hell you’re gonna take even minor injuries lying down.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You snarl, your neck aching and balance compromised. You try to dig your claws into Neb’s shoulders to catch yourself. “You pulled a knife, you stupid nookblister!”

Said knife cuts the inside of your upper arm, but you have no idea how badly. You shriek furiously and dig your claws in harder.

[glowtrolls]

Instead of getting away from you like you want her to, Tizmik just holds on to you. “No, what - No! I was so far away! Get off of me!” Not even cutting her can help that, but it isn’t until you feel the pain through you that you understand where she’s digging her claws in, and when you do, there’s no going back. 

Somewhere in between shrieking like a banshee and kicking for her knees, you manage to aim the hilt of our knife at her nose, but she’s way too close to swing properly. “Get away! Not there, dig your ugly little claws anywhere but there, not there, not there!” Anywhere but there, but you choke on a sob before you can get out more. Great. Very graceful. Aren’t you just having the greatest of days!

You just hope it won’t be your last.

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

Ow, ow, ow. Your ears. Your legs. Your nose. It's startling enough to almost let go, but you settle for moving your claws to their biceps. It's easier to control their arms that way anyway.

"Explain!" you holler. "Everything!"

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

They’re infected. Yes. You’re right. Very nice. But also not nice.

You flick your wrist the second you see the knife and splash the contents of the mug onto Nebuka. The tea bag flops stupidly against their shirt and onto the floor. You hope they know how to get rid of tea stains, ehehe. You knock their arm with your forearm while they’re distracted (you are not stupid enough to literally run into someone’s knife) and aim a punch to their gut.

[glowtrolls]

She doesn’t comply. Of course she doesn’t, what were you expecting!

Instead, she flings scalding hot tea in your direction, and you can’t do anything but stumble as far backwards as you can before it hits your shirt, seeping right through and, from what ti feels like, setting you on fire underneath. Shit.

Before you can even retaliate, Tizmik is already way too close, knocking away your knife arm with hers. On the upside, this brings her just close enough that you can to try and ram your elbow into her throat. While you do that, you also kick out your foot to sweep at her feet from behind, and hiss up a storm on the side. “I wasn’t even asking for much! Just get me out, what do you care!” 

It’s only then that it hits you, quite literally, that she just punched you in the stomach, and you didn’t so much as dodge. To make up for that, you now fold in on yourself, instinctively making yourself small. And because you’re scared she’s going to do something with this, you free your arm from holding your stomach and stab at her.

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You snarl, your neck aching and balance compromised. You try to dig your claws into Neb's shoulders to catch yourself. "You pulled a knife, you stupid nookblister!"

Said knife cuts the inside of your upper arm, but you have no idea how badly. You shriek furiously and dig your claws in harder.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

Business arrangement? You don’t actually need the money. Everyone gets enough of a stipend to get by, you’ll live without the extra.

You almost hand them the mug, but quickly rethink and take a step back. “Fucking with highbloods is a noble goal, aight? I’ll give you that much, but if this is some kinda blaze of glory thing… you ain’t dead yet, a'right? Y'ain’t gone milky-orbed. It’s not too late, an’ I know a guy what prob'ly won’t even charge you nothing.” You grit your teeth and swallow a growl, your entire body tense. “Jus- Just tell me what type it is so’s I know what to dope myself up on.”

It doesn’t occur to you that your surprisingly diplomatic words might not have the intended effect, what with your obvious preparing to defend yourself.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik looks like she’s going to hand you her makeshift-weapon and everything’s going to be fine, but then takes a step back in what feels like the very last second, leaving you grasping at nothing instead. Dammit.

And then she has to stab you in the feelings too. You did not sign up for this.

“It’s not - blaze of glory isn’t my thing, okay Tizzle? I know what I’m about. And you can’t - you don’t - Ah, fuck!” You’re just talking yourself into trouble, you need to calm down. That, and resist the urge to wipe at your eyes right now. “There is nothing up with me that would make things too late or not too late, okay?”, you reassure her, and only manage to sound confident because it’s technically true. 

“Rest assured though, you don’t need to take anything! Not like it would work any- ” Wait, no. In your haste to clap a hand over your mouth, you hit the back of your foot against a counter hard enough to make you swear out loud, and that’s it, you’re done, you need to get out of here or you’re going to die. “No, I’m out.”

Except that the moment you do get out of here, a giant ripperwasp is going to eat you lock, stock and barrel. Fuck. Which means that your only option - 

You turn back to Tizmik and try to keep your breath steady.

“…And you”, you tell Tizmik over the tip of your knife, pointed at her as firmly as you can manage, “Are going to get me out of here. Got that, shortstack?”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

She's infected. Yes. You're right. Very nice. But also not nice.

You flick your wrist the second you see the knife and splash the contents of the mug onto Nebuka. The tea bag flops stupidly against their shirt and onto the floor. You hope they know how to get rid of tea stains, ehehe. You knock their arm with your forearm while they're distracted (you are not stupid enough to literally run into someone's knife) and aim a punch to their gut.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

“Cos if you’re infected,” you say, “then you'n me’ve gotta have a chat.” That’s not a euphemism. You wanna know what kind so’s you can get the rights meds for yourself, and you wanna get them to your medic friend ASAP. Maybe you’ll get some samples out of it! And it’s not like he’d pass up the chance for mad science, either.

You’re looking at them carefully for any sign of movement and trying to figure out the best place to non-lethally pop some stabs if/when they attack. Algern says your thinking face is adorable.

[glowtrolls]

Everything you just said rolls off Tizmik’s shoulders like water off a duck. You’re not sure if you should be impressed or pissed, so you opt for being pissed.

“Hey curly, are you even listening? We’re doing nothing but chatting!” This is the point where you’d normally throw your hands in the air, turn on your heel and leave, but she’s watching you like a cat would watch a cornered mouse and you have a feeling that that would end badly. Your hands end up on your sides instead, balled up and leaving pinpricks in your palms where you’re digging your claws in.

“Seriously, scars. If you don’t know how to treat a customer, I’m gonna have to take my business elsewhere. The stars are not smiling down on this business arrangement.” It’s a long way out the front door, too many corners to round, and there’s still a giant angry wasp waiting for you outside of it. Maybe you are a cornered mouse.

“Can I have my tea”, you raise your hand comically slowly, “Or were you planning to drink that yourself?”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

Business arrangement? You don't actually need the money. Everyone gets enough of a stipend to get by, you'll live without the extra.

You almost hand them the mug, but quickly rethink and take a step back. "Fucking with highbloods is a noble goal, aight? I'll give you that much, but if this is some kinda blaze of glory thing... you ain't dead yet, a'right? Y'ain't gone milky-orbed. It's not too late, an' I know a guy what prob'ly won't even charge you nothing." You grit your teeth and swallow a growl, your entire body tense. "Jus- Just tell me what type it is so's I know what to dope myself up on."

It doesn't occur to you that your surprisingly diplomatic words might not have the intended effect, what with your obvious preparing to defend yourself.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You open the microwave just as the first bubble bursts on the surface of the water. Opening the door’s a good excuse for stepping slightly away from Nebuka. There’s no rush to getting the bag in and the mug out either, because here’s what you know:

Mom is unusually aggressive towards them

They’ve been acting weird since you brought up zombies

You smell flowers

You half turn back to them with the mug of scalding water held in your hand. Hey, you don’t wanna, but if they get aggro you want something on-hand less obvious than pulling specibus. “That is perfume, ain’t it?” you say slowly.

[glowtrolls]

While Tizmik steps around to get your water out, a little awkwardly, as you think, you lean on her counter and try to relax a bit. This is not good for your blood pressure.

Neither is the way Tizmik puts the tea between you and her. You’re a scout, you know a makeshift weapon when you see one. 

And then she asks again, again with the perfume, and dammit. You’re not sure smoking out some highbloods is worth risking your hide.

“Why’re you always on about that?”, you laugh, and cross your free arm over the one on the counter. “Is that so fascinating to you? Hey, maybe I got a little too close to the - the things”, you try not to swallow hard, “and got some of the smell on me. I washed it off, I got the spores off me, but the smell’s just sticking. Okay? I just didn’t want you to be spooked.”

“But hey, if you don’t want me in your hive,” defensive, appeasing arm gesture, palms towards Tizmik, “Then I totally get that, and you need to just say so. But don’t keep going on about my smell. Kind of a boundaries thing.”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

"Cos if you're infected," you say, "then you'n me've gotta have a chat." That's not a euphemism. You wanna know what kind so's you can get the rights meds for yourself, and you wanna get them to your medic friend ASAP. Maybe you'll get some samples out of it! And it's not like he'd pass up the chance for mad science, either.

You're looking at them carefully for any sign of movement and trying to figure out the best place to non-lethally pop some stabs if/when they attack. Algern says your thinking face is adorable.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[glowtrolls]

“Half an hour, I can do. Even if I’ve got to say that I didn’t look at your lusus long enough to tell whether she actually has tits to chill. I was sort of busy fearing for my life, you know how it is.” A half shrug, a dismissive wave, rolled eyes - you’re not even really listening to yourself. This is a stressful situation that you can’t just run away from, and you hate those with a passion. 

“But. Uh.” Too late, you notice that Tizmik has dropped the smile she was probably only smiling to be polite, and you might be more fucked than you think. 

You mentally shake yourself, and decide to try again. “Dude, were you listening? I was joking too. This”, you point at yourself with both hands, “is my joking face. And unless you’re looking for an impromptu pale hookup and my entire sad life story - which costs extra, just by the by - no, nothing is up, except your wondrous, beautiful ceiling.” That you already inspected for security cameras. “The water looks like it’s ready, by the way. I take mine rare, not well done.”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You open the microwave just as the first bubble bursts on the surface of the water. Opening the door’s a good excuse for stepping slightly away from Nebuka. There’s no rush to getting the bag in and the mug out either, because here’s what you know:

Mom is unusually aggressive towards them

They’ve been acting weird since you brought up zombies

You smell flowers

You half turn back to them with the mug of scalding water held in your hand. Hey, you don’t wanna, but if they get aggro you want something on-hand less obvious than pulling specibus. “That is perfume, ain’t it?” you say slowly.

[sixpenceee]

China has a major wasp problem right now. Over the past three months, 21 people have died as a result of wasp stings in the province of Shaanxi alone.

The killer variety responsible is thought to be Vespa mandarinia or Asian giant hornets. They are typically 2.2 inches long, and attack in swarms. Don’t think you can run away, either. These things will chase you, and can fly at speeds of nearly 25 mph. (Source)

[minutemademenace]

Haha no

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik completely ignores the fact that you’re joking and goes straight to what should’ve been obvious: It doesn’t matter that you made it in, you’re probably going to be breakfast anyways. Great. 

She then proceeds to make your tea water in the microwave, and if your smile hadn’t already completely vanished, it would definitely pack it’s bags now.

But when she goes on about you being a walker again, you force it right back on. No autonomy for facial expressions, your body is an empire and not some weird softie alien democracy.

“Hah!”, you try. She eats zombies. Very funny. “But ohh, yes, absolutely! It was supposed to be a sneak attack, but alas, you and your lusus are simply too clever for me. In reality, I’m not a customer, but an infected that one of your enemies - do you have enemies?”

“Don’t answer that”, you wave your hand dismissively, “A girl like you definitely does. Either way, one of those bastards sent me. I’m here to infect you, come into my arms!” You sway forward, arms spread wide, and then immediately fall back against one of the counters, tilt your head back and cackle.  And your heart is almost in it!

Really, you could just tell Tizmik to fuck off, but she’s far too insistent for you not to get spiteful. (Can’t she just drop it already??)

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

They’re acting... weird. If they’re nervous, you can do a gentler tone. Slightly. Slightly gentler.

“She usually chills her chitinous tits after like half an hour. So long as you’re leaving she’ll just chase, probably. Don’t worry.” You try a small(er) and (somewhat) less-toothy smile, but... what the hell’s their deal? Judgey-face much? Rude. You pull a bit of a face as your smile fades.

And now she’s grinning again? And in your space? The flower smell is only wafting towards you more now, ugh. You’ve learned to hate that smell, and now you are perturbed. “Right,” you say, perturbedly. The water should be boiling in a few more seconds. “That sure sounds like a plan. I was actually joking, just so you know, but now uh. Is something actually up?”

[otpprompts]

Imagine person A of your OTP has nice titties. Thats it. Person A just has quality bazongas.

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You snort. “Whatever, just no using the kind legit based off of revenant flowers. I get some varieties of spore act as like, supercharged pheromones, but the amount of twitchy the local trolls and fauna get about the smell are gonna stop that shit from being worthwhile real grub damned quick.”

You walk across the room, down a step, and into the food prep block. “I got both in here. Punch’s all artificial, I mean, this isn’t a highblood hive you’re at, but it’s the tasty red kind of fake fruit drink.”

[glowtrolls]

“Hey, whatever!“ You shrug dramatically. “I’ve never had problems with it, so they can obviously tell the difference between perfume and the real deal.” 

Tizmik starts wandering off into a different part of the hive, so you take the hint and wander off in the same direction, hands in the pockets of your cargo pants. While she has her back turned to you, you try to look around a bit and get a feeling for whether or not it would be worth it to rob her, but from what you see, the inside of the hive pretty much exactly matches the outside. Not a highblood hive is right. How boring.

“Gimme the tea then”, you decide. “I’m used to space food, but that’s no indication that I also have to like it. Is your lusus gonna be alright outside, by the way? …Or, actually, I should rather ask if your neighbors will be, but that would be rude, wouldn’t it?”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

"Dunno about rude, it's a reasonable concern, but you oughta be more worried about how you're gonna leave. I don't think we planned that far." You reach into a cupboard for a mug and fill it with water. Once it's in the microwave and and set to heat, you spin and lean against the counter. "Mom won't attack anyone what's not on the property or turning. If any neighbors are getting hunted, I'd say they've got other problems." You find that far more amusing than you should.

"Speaking of mom," you continue, "I ain't never seen her that aggro at a guest not trying to kill me." You grin cheekily at Nebuka. "Got anything you wanna tell me?"

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[glowtrolls]

“I’m blennnding innn…”, you explain with a gimmicky wave of your hand, because, hey, none of her business! So what if you want to smell like a walking corpse! …Truth be told, you actually kind of like it.

“And really, what else if not floral? I’m incredibly sorry to be the one breaking this to you, really, from the bottom of my pusher,”, both hands crossed over it, “But musk is so incredibly out that it’s almost retro.“ You don’t like the way she’s squinting at you, and your usual solution for this sort of scenario is to just keep talking. 

“Do you have punch? Black tea’s good too.”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You snort. “Whatever, just no using the kind legit based off of revenant flowers. I get some varieties of spore act as like, supercharged pheromones, but the amount of twitchy the local trolls and fauna get about the smell are gonna stop that shit from being worthwhile real grub damned quick.”

You walk across the room, down a step, and into the food prep block. “I got both in here. Punch’s all artificial, I mean, this isn’t a highblood hive you’re at, but it’s the tasty red kind of fake fruit drink.”

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[glowtrolls]

“Haah, I can imagine! Ever thought of getting an online shop?” You snicker, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and then checking it for makeup smears. 

Then she comes sniffing at you and you’re just about ready to be offended, but it looks like she caught a whiff of your flowers, so you demonstrate adaptability and opt for being terrified instead. “Well, yeah! Is that illegal? Does our most beautiful Empress care if some oliveblood doesn’t smell like desert sweat all night?” You laugh again, but your ears don’t quite cooperate.

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You sniff again and back off. They’ve got unhappy ears, you must have made them uncomfortable. No creeping out the customers!

“I’d go with something other than a floral, fucking bad idea out here.” It’s not like you haven’t seen stranger, but mom should be able to tell the difference between artificial floral scent and real flowers. Hell, she should be able to tell the difference between garden-variety (ha) flowers and revenant growths.

...You’ll keep an eye on this. A squinty, suspicious eye.

“You need anything before getting started? I got tea, cocoa, whatever.”

[glowtrolls]

Tizmik: Don’t kill the zombie

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You laugh back. You can get behind this kind of nonchalance in the face of danger. “Mom’s not gonna eat anything living what isn’t dead too, and thanks to this she’s hunting for herself tonight. Get on the side of the door without the hinges. I’mma shove mom outta the door, and then you duck in. So… yeah pretty much just what you said. You ready?”

You wait for confirmation, and then you open the door. Waspmom retreats by a foot to better her angle, and then she attempts to latch onto her prey. You pull Nebuka in by their shirtsleeve the moment waspmom is outside. The door closes with a SLAM, followed by a THUMP and more buzzing. You cackle to yourself. Victory: Tizmik.

[glowtrolls]

So you’re right, she does eat zombies. Wonderful!

You’re dead meat.

Dead meat that still knows how to follow instructions, though. You duck towards the right side of the door, shout Tizmik a “Ready and set!”, and then the door is already open.

In the next moment, there’s ginormous insect coming right at you, stinger and all, flapping her wings so hard that your hair blows in your face and you can barely see. But before you can even think of ducking properly, you’re already stumbling forward - no, actually, being pulled forward.

Then Tizmik slams the door behind you, and just like that, you’re inside.

“Are you - Hah!” You need to lean back against the door for a moment, hand over your chest to catch your breath, and giggling helplessly in between. “Do you always do this with your customers?”

[paroxysmalsynthetic]

You slam the side of your fist into the door. The buzzing doesn't change.

Their laughter sets you off and you can't respond for giggling. "If- if that happened every time, I'd be dead broke." You take a deep breath and catch a whiff of something floral. You sniff a few times and pull a face. "You wearing perfume?"