Rune Test with Vedran [8/21] Full Accursed Dev

[15:52] 'Lab' is a charitable word. More like 'dungeon'. The workspace, since that's clearly what it is, is dark and a little clammy. Along the northern wall are empty cages, a blackboard with scrawling and scribblings, and a desk.

On that desk is what looks like a casting of a black arm in tar. Its fingers are curled inward, mimicking the legs of a spider in death. Surgical tools are arranged haphazardly nearby, covered in ichor.

She's already setting to work, cleaning the blackboard and picking up a stick of chalk. The Accursed takes a booklet from her back pocket, flips through its pages, then begins scribbling new symbols on the dark slate.

"Make yourself comfy. Keep your sleeve rolled up. This shouldn't hurt. And if it does, you oughta' let me know. Okay?"
(Ardith)
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[16:03] Finally, Ardith's ever elusive lab. Certainly a 'lab' but, sharing several similar feature to Malentine's fabled lair. The empty human-sized cages littering the northern-most wall should've caused slightly alarm!

"Don't understand a damn thing 'bout them chalk-boards! But! But..." It was quickly wiped clean, as new supposedly runic symbols took their place...

The Dhampir kept his sleeve rolled, glancing at the ichor-covered surgical tools and more ominously!



That casting. The arm covered in black tar.
(Vedran)
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[16:04] After having the front door unlocked for them, Eshmun brought behind him a small entourage into the building. Seeing Ardith rush back to the lab, he also entered behind her alone and gave a small smile at Vedran who was in the room with them.

"I'll be in the main room, with Sima, Ark, and Bubbles." It was a simple statement, one quickly placed before he turned back around and exited the room...Couldn't really leave guests alone, could you?
(Eshmun Hirai)
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[16:05] The Accursed busily mutters and scribbles on the chalkboard. As she's wont to do she draws out a roughdraft of what intends. A crude sketch of an arm, with arrows pointing to joints and specific muscles, accompanied by more drafts of runic symbols.

"You ain't gotta. Don't worry. Your job is to sit tight and hold still."

Job. As if he's getting paid. Which he probably isn't. Ardith works feverishly, eagerly at the board.

"You got any allergies I oughta know about?"
(Ardith)
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[16:10] "Great. Hold still n' look pretty! I can handle that."

Unpaid labor. Typical. Glancing at that rough planning of the arm, before waving as Eshmun came and went.

"No allergies but uh! Wanna' explain what's actually happenin' first and foremost?" Ardith's sketch painted a hazy image if anything.

"And-- the one thing I never tend ta' ask. Will it hurt?" Should've asked that when Sima directed a concentrated beam of cosmic energy as his chest-- it wasn't a pleasant experience.

Rather avoid any unnecessary discomfort.
(Vedran)
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[16:11] "I'm gonna draw some things on your arm," she replies vaguely, finishing the rough sketches on the chalkboard. Some lines are erased, redone, and refined. All part of the process. Nothing will ever be perfect on the first pass.

That's what the guinea pig is for too.

"Hurt? Nah. Shouldn't. Like I said, if it does? You need to let me know."

Ardith turns to the desk and picks up a runescribe's horsehair brush and a pot of sulfurous smelling ink.

"Shouldn't take too long. You ready?"
(Ardith)
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[16:16] "That doesn't sound threatening at all." he'd reply with a shrug, knowing full-well that his arm was about to be littered with crude-runework at best. "So! I really am the test for this all."

Shifting his glance between Ardith and the chalk-board, attempting to piece the sketches together. Nothing could be that easy, could it? Resembling vague and unintelligible scribbles to the once alchemist.

"This! Is why I stuck with potions." He'd mutter.

"Ready." Vedran casually shifted in his seat, straightening his posture.

As the accursed loomed closer, while he'd wince at the foul smell of the ink.
(Vedran)
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[16:21] The sketch of what is likely an arm is obvious. There's a patch work of encircled runes that lines it. Arrows point to each, with a few noted words in the Accursed's own chicken scratch. It's not difficult to pick out a few words.

'Growth. Change. Evolution.'

Not ominous at all. Right? Right.

She looks back to the slate board, referencing the first of the eldritch symbols, and begins drawing it onto Vedran's bicep. The smell of sulfur is pungent and the ink will no doubt make his skin tingle. There probably won't be any pain though. Discomfort at most.
(Ardith)
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[16:21] Ardith says, "I know I ain't have to tell you...But hold real still."
[16:27] Growth. Change. Evolution.

Ominous was an understatement.

"Aye, hard ta' draw demon-symbols if the recipient is struggling." Struggling. Vedran's eyes gravitated toward the massive-cages lining the walls- "How much use do those cages get?" He'd inquire.

Attempting to gauge how terrified he should be.

Rendered uncomfortable by the sensation of tingling, mixed with that odorous ink- "And... Hm." Those words scribbled on the board popped into his head again.

"That normal ink?"
(Vedran)
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[16:31] The Accursed grins ear-to-ear, a ghastly expression, as she starts drawing the symbols on Vedran's flesh. Her experiments come that much closer to fruition with each stroke of her brush. The red eyes sparkle, freshly polished rubies set into her face.

"Not much these days...I let what was in 'em out. You like askin' questions, don't you?"

The first circle is draw, the first symbol, and she references the board behind her again. She draws a line of black down to the crook of his arm and starts on another.

"No. Got a lil' kick. Helps it resist sweat and body oil better. Somethin' I made myself."
(Ardith)
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[16:39] The Dhampir couldn't help but-... Oh, what the hel. It wasn't as if Vedran didn't constantly smile like a deranged maniac. Returning a uneasy grin, even if her experiment and demeanor felt deeply unsettling.

"Aye. I'm an inquisitive man n' maybe I just wanna' get to know you." Vedran's poker-face was at full force. Failing to show an ounce as discomfort, as the first symbol was successful drawn.

As the Accursed started on the next, Vedran couldn't help but realize the deftness of her motions.

Intricately and seemingly effortlessly reproducing the eldritch symbols.

From the slate, to his arm.

"Resistin' so the runes don't get smudged or ruined." Shame it smelled putrid.


(Vedran)
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[16:42] "Hey. Ain't make sense for me to shame someone's curiosity. Would it?"

The smile is utterly ghoulish. Maybe she doesn't mean for it to be that way. She's just got one of those faces.

Her hand is steady, from years upon years of practice in both runework and drawing on human skin. Living human skin. Don't worry about it.

"They used to have demons in 'em. The tyrium coating kept 'em sedated. Not that I liked it, mind you, but the non-sentient ones ain't know any better between food and a friend."

She finishes the second symbol and starts in on the third and final one on the back of the Dhampir's hand.

"Exactly. When you're working on skin, there's a few things you gotta' take into consideration. You'd be surprised. Including here in the jungle where things get so humid. I try to keep it cooler in here to counteract that."
(Ardith)
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[16:51] "Suppose not! That'd make you quite the hypocrite."

Her practice didn't go unnoticed- while Vedran's previous specialty involved the careful mixing of reagents and producing potions, it didn't necessarily require the same level of coordination.

Just enough to avoid a catastrophic explosion!

"Not every demon possesses sentience then?" That'd explain Ark's current conundrum! Fused with an idiot. A pity. "Now, now. Ardith! Don't be so closed-minded- nothin' says that you can't mix food and friend."

Returning a ghoulish grin. Which, he definitely intended!

"Afraid that writin' on skin ain't necessarily my concern. How ta' properly marinade and season it however?! I definitely learned durin' my time as Cain's chosen." Back when the jungle's humidity would've harshly offended him.

"Hard to think that my kind planned ta' invade Gehenna less then thirty years ago." Shame that got stomped out, it would've been a decent little home.
(Vedran)
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[16:56] "No...you can thank the spires for that," she says a bit tartly. Then she's all grins again.

Ardith snickers and snorts, her brush hand jerking upward rather than across as she tries to finish the symbol on the back of Vedran's hand.

"Ain't wrong, Ved. You ain't wrong. Ain't ever thought to do the cannibalism thing like a lot here do, but I gotta admit. I get curious sometimes. What's long pork like?"

When she'd first come here the very concept was barbaric, an outrage. Now she's more cozy with it. And other things. So many other things.

"Yeah. Shame. I ain't get all this spirits mumbo jumbo. It'd be even better without those kinda' hangups, y'know?"

Progress is too often hindered by the religious zealots. Why, if Saba hadn't denied Loretta a place here, they could already be leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else. Damn shame, really.

"...There. Now if I infused this with mana or did it in a different ink, it'd be somethin' else. As it is though it's just a drawing. Which is good cuz I ain't actually know what it'd do to you."
(Ardith)
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[17:08] "I could also thank the spires fer' neutering the vampiric race, while we're at it." venom lingering in his voice, recalling all those times Cain's Curse had a mysterious hang-up.

Vedran couldn't change the past however, blankly staring off! Until Ardith's hand jerked upward in an attempt to finish that eldritch symbol.

Interrupting his concentration.

"Truthfully? Drinkin' blood for me was always a tiny step away from cannibalism! Now I've passed tha' barrier, and... it depends on tha' person. Kabu's arm? Wonderfully tender due ta' the cleaving. Practically fell off the bone." Maybe it was due to the utter lack of musculature.

"Can't even imagine takin' a chunk outta' Artaghh's arm." Slow-cooking, maybe?

It wasn't ritualistic or anything cultural, Vedran was just comfortable with eating people.

"I don't necessarily get it either, but! I ain't a fan o' gods anymore. Given that Azrael created my kind, then left us to fester and rot." Abandoned. Swept aside. All for the sake of Necromancy. Of Azrael's yearn for control.

"... I hate most Oscuri cause they're mindless puppets, loyal ta' the bitter end to their false savior." Shameful.

As Ardith finished, Vedran cast his gaze downward.

"... Wanna' try it?" What's the point of being a guinea pig if Vedran was unable to make risky choices?
(Vedran)
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[17:11] Ardith asks, "...You sure 'bout that?"
[17:20] "Puppets...yeah. I ain't ever wanted to dance on strings, Ved. It was bad enough when Sors picked me out to date his son. Fuckin' hated that. And hey...you ever happened to accidentally take another chunk out of Kabu? I wouldn't mind trying it for myself."

It's a dark road she's going down probably with that offer, but she mentions it casually. As if he might happen to go down to the store for bread and milk and find a human arm somewhere along the way on special.

"It's okay. They can stay in their lil' huts and their holes. Ain't bother me none."

So long as they didn't deign fit to get in her way, they could do whatever their ickle hearts desired. It makes no difference to her in the end.

"I ain't make promises on the safety of this. Just so y'know...here we go."

The Accursed tugs off the glove on her left hand, revealing a rune-etched, jeweled ring that's seized onto one of her fingers. A pretty thing, an ancient thing. Ardith brushes her finger tips and the runed metal against the Dhampir's skin and where the lines of ink begin on his upper arm.

With an infusion of mana the reaction is immediate and violent.

The lines of black ink expand, causing a burning pain to spread through his flesh as his skin bubbles, boils, and twists in response. All the skin on his arm stretches tight against his muscles and sinews, like taught stretched canvas dyed pitch black. His fingers fuse together in the midst of their boiling; some of them melt together, giving him two long, ghastly clawed fingers and a thumb that are too long to be normal. Thick, jet black fur sprouts to cover the mutated limb in a dense hide.

It's going to be a mind numbingly painful process.
(Ardith)
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[17:29] ** Ardith has inflicted an injury upon Vedran. ("Mutated Arm", "Vedran's arm has been horribly twisted and mutated. The skin is stretched tight over the limb, overgrown with thick black fur. He only has three fingers on this limb that are tipped with dagger sharp claws. The arm is unwieldly, difficult to control, and stirs an alien hunger within its host...", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[17:41] "Unfortunately? No! I assist in gettin' another peace if you ever asked! Also- THAT is why you dated Jun?! Pffft… PFFFT! Holy shit." That was funnier then the Kabu remark.

So casual about it as well.

"Mmh, I'll try ta' help you with that and . . I didn't exactly ask for safety, no?" The Dhampir didn't necessarily mind the risk! What's the worst that an infusion of mana could do?!

…

That's what Vedran thought. That helping out a dear friend was worth any risk.. yet, as the ancient and corrupted ring pressed into the Dhampir's skin.

The black ink expanded, causing a searing pain to radiate throughout his flesh. Clutching his arm, Vedran's breath went ragged as he white-hot pain. Wincing. Eager to scream. As his flesh went malleable, twisting and shifting!

Those eldritch, presumably Illyothan runes caused his condition to rapidly worsen.

Dropping to the floor, as his fingers fused together, congealing into three, ghoulish appearing appendages topped with dagger-like claws. With thick fur sprouting, similar to Ardith's legs.

Resulting in an abomination of an arm.

The Dhampir felt only pain and suffering, gritting his teeth--

Before suddenly, lashing out.

Lunging forward, attempting to swipe at Illaron's accursed with the mutated appendage. Rapidly flailing without a word.
(Vedran)
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[17:48] This is not at all what Ardith expected.

Wait. What did she expect? She actually had no clue. No other catalyst other than the ink and the compulsion for mutation and growth had been implemented. No blood or special inks. Only the latent magics that Vedran possessed.

Which, when she thought about it a few seconds, made the mutation make that much more sense.

She wants to study this, to take notes. Beneath that she might feel shreds of concern for the Dhampir, but the urge to sate this curiosity is overwhelming. Ardith needs to know MORE.

Before she can even grab her booklet the mutated Vedran lashes out at her. Flailing, flopping wildly, his claws scrape against one of her legs and she cries out, strafing back. There's a pulse of occultic intrusion in his mind, she claws back and a voice shrieks to him from within via telepathy.

'Don't make me break that fuckin' hand, Vedran!'
(Ardith)
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[17:55] An occultist. Illyothian runes, and a small /fraction/ of Illaron's own tainted mana.

What a dreadful combination.

As the Dhampire reeled back again, preparing to dart forward, yet again-- the sudden pulse of Ardith's own occultism, another with her telepathic shrieking! Was enough to stun the Dhampir.

Bracing the mutated arm with his untouched one, keeping it held against his chest.

"It's-- VERY difficult to wrangle!"

While the skin was tightly stretched, those dagger-like claws made the unwieldly arm even more cumbersome and a pain to control.

"Just... find out if it's permanent or not!" Before he'd do anything else, Vedran had to know the true extent of the dreaded mutation. Which, would've looked amazing... if it WAS NOT on him.
(Vedran)
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[18:00] Ardith's ready as he prepares to dart in a second time, whipping her spear around in her hand. It might be time to stake a motherfucker.

Unless he wrangles it in, which he thankfully does.

"Look, you said you were cool with it! It shouldn't be permanent...That ink's resistant, but temporary. Fuck. Try tying it to your chest. Like. A sling or somethin'."

There's no reason it should be permanent. His circuits weren't designed to handle these things like hers were. In all likelihood when the ink faded he'd revert to normal. Maybe. This is untrodden territory for her, but it's an educated guess.

"Haha, holy fuck...I ain't think it'd work THAT well."
(Ardith)
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[18:05] It shouldn't be permanent... those words alone put the Dhampir at ease, if it wasn't for the mutated arm KEEN on flailing about. "Right, Right. Sling."

Motherfucker. His circuits felt like they'd be ablaze after this! That'd have to wait, Vedran's ruby-like gaze frantically darted around the room-..

Looking for a chain or any rope.

"... Workin' well?! So that's the type of feature yer' looking for with this?" If it wasn't for the startling lack of control.

It would've been a neat limb.
(Vedran)
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[18:08] Ropes? Chains? She's got both over by the cages. She picks up the latter and trots on over, trying to snap them over the wrist to tie the unruly limb down to Vedran's torso.

She takes mental notes as she does. She can't help herself. It's utterly fascinating.

"Not exactly. It's fuckin' complicated, okay? Keep it STILL, damnit!"
(Ardith)
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[18:13] Chaining the arm down? Simple enough, eager to assist- Vedran uses his other arm, yanking the chain around it! Desperately struggling to restrain the writhing arm!

"You try havin' a mutant arm! Ack!"

Wrapping the chain around, before connecting it over his shoulder- an attempt to make an incredibly-crude chain sling.

To Vedran? It was fascinating and truthfully? Would've been beneficial in ANY other circumstance. Letting out a quiet sigh, as the movement ground to a halt.

"There."
(Vedran)
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[18:17] "Not exactly. Fuck, again with the questions," she grumbles, cinching the chain tight to brace against the arm. There. Totally okay now.

"Sort of. Like I said. Complicated. There's a lot I'm trying to do, this is just a small part. A small part that's workin' REAL good, ha!"

Ardith isn't concerned about the arm. Actually, she's giddy with the results. It's proof of concept before her very eyes.

"Anyway. That's all. So...yeah. It should wear off in a while. Actually, why ain't you walk with me. I wanna show this off."
(Ardith)