Log:Dumpster Diving and Dread

Dumpster Diving and Dread
"Oops."
Participants Uschi and Jimena	10 January, 2019 Down in the grim back ally of the Industrial District, a dumpster diving Ogress gets curious when some spiders lead her to discover that even a Moon can find terror in the dark.
Location Grimy Alleyway nearby Cat-22
It's dark. It's cold. It's wet. It's gloomy. The Season is only starting off, really - but Winter feels like it's been around f.o.r.e.v.e.r... Down in Fort Brunsett's Industrial District, there is a grimy little alleyway which zig-zag connects local hot spots like Cat-22 with The Union and assorted sewer tunnels and disused quads of crumbling brick and rust -- so long as a person doesn't mind walking over broken bottles and vomit and trash and mysterious rust coloured liquid, the winding alleyway is a cakewalk. Somewhere along said cakewalk, in a grim, dank alley corner of brick and steel by a dumpster, there is rustling. There is not, however, light -- whatever is making that sound is in no need of the stuff. Uschi is dim, in all sense of the word: she is foolish or confident enough that she is making zero -- zero -- attempt at lessening the noise as she digs, one arm'd, through aforementioned dumpster. Metal clangs and is crushed underboot, as the Ogress dives for whatever hidden treasure she assumes she'll find hidden in the muck. It's dark, and cold, and wet, and the alley is dark, and cold, and full of debris and vomit and questionable things no one really wants to think about. And even in Vermont, in a (comparatively) tiny little city in the middle of nowhere... it pays to pay attention when in an alley. Perhaps Uschi doesn't think so. Maybe she is intent on treasure. Or perhaps she catches the skittering motion near the top of the dumpster-- on the wall, on the brick. Something moving on the brick? Just a bug. A harmless dark spider. Except... isn't there another just a foot away over there? And another...and another... all crawling from the grate near the front of the alley, streaming on the floor and along the walls to some spot behind the dumpster, enough spiders that one can HEAR the rustle of all those tiny legs skittering ever so quickly... Uschi may be intent on finding some new treasure to add to the collection back 'home', but she's not so comfortable in this grim cityscape that The Vigilance is turned off, no. Not even for a second. For all that Ogress' loud confidence that she, Uschi, has 100%% claim over the contents of that dumpster, it's not as if she can really sit back in that filth and ignore the telltale signs of activity around her... One spider? Normal. Three spiders? Still normal. Sixteen? Uh... More than twenty five? The wet squwanch of cardboard cases, as Uschi stops -- covered in layers of pilfered winter-wear, her Very Dead Left Arm swings limply at her side as the Ogress turns and slowly starts to track the movement of all those wee lil' arachnids. Do they seem to be going somewhere en masse? Very peculiar, and it doesn't take a genius to spot that. Those asymmetrical ursine shoulders roll, and Uschi drops a rusting colander into the dumpster -- all the better for her to start to start her one-armed climb out into the alleyway, so she can investigate just where all them spiders are getting to. Maybe there's treasure. Oh yes, definitely a spider horde en masse. Quite a few of them, skittering-- in one rush, suddenly it's a small, visible blob of spiders, merging and parting before they fall behind the dumpster and then-- silence. No more skittering spider feet, or dark spider streams walking over old flyers and cardboard. Just the normal city quiet, and a plain, solid dumpster. Except, of course, then there's a small thump, beneath the dumpster. Spider horde, eh? Uschi thumps to the ground from the edge of the dumpster -- it has her, for a second or two, trying to reorientate herself; in that time she hears, but does not /see/ the spiders. An owl feather threatens to fall from behind her ear, and the Ogress takes another moment to adjust it there - keeping it woven into the bunched braids that keep her hair out of her horns. By the time those iridescent eyes look up, the spiders have stopped scuttling. Uschi sniffs in the air - once, twice, thrice - remaining still, crouched on the ground, as she senses the air around her... ...and that one working ruddy right hand of hers reaches underneath the edge of the dumpster, pats around, and slowly pulls out a half-broken wine bottle. Oh bother. With quiet, half-muffled movements, Uschi starts creeping along and peeks -- just for a flash! -- around the back edge of that dumpster. There is something there -- some old clothes someone tossed, crammed into the foot (or less) of space between dumpster and the wall? A bundle, abandoned? No, that's not quite right... because it shifts. And one section of cloth turns, a soft crunching sound audible, and in the dim light of passing cars on the streets, Uschi can see as in the dark crack, bruise-colored flesh shows itself, scraping along the side of the dumpster, face distorted momentarily as a jaw, a nose, a _skull_ does things it just should not do, until finally the round face of a girl is fully facing Uschi, bones snapping back into place, dark, curled hair surrounding her face beneath her hood, and the dim passing lights make those all-black eyes flash with a slight silver sheen, even as the thin black lips pull back into a smile, showing neat teeth and two sharp, curved canines, all black, and then the lips hide away the teeth as they come together, a single word said aloud: "Oops." Old clothes - oh, Uschi can do with some old clothes; literally every tattered thing on the Ogress is somebody's old clothes, although for her they're new - so... So... So that is a question that requires thinking, and Uschi? Is not exactly the best thinker. Who knows what series of images flashes through her mind, when those old clothes start to shift, and the Keen Eyes of the Ogress pick up on the thing in the shadow -- which just gets brighter and brighter with the wholly unnatural and unwanted car lights. For a nocturnal, feral creature such as Uschi, used to living in the relative calm of a dark and quiet forest, the sensory overload of the city can be Too Much on her nerves, already wracked with poor Ogress composure. The City has solidified into some shape, and the shape is a terrifying blob-girl smiling in the dark, being -friendly- and /sociable/. Honestly, there's no thought, only instinct -- the wine bottle in Uschi's singular working hand is hurled forward at that bruise coloured face in the dark. How does it feel? Well, it feels like getting smacked dead on by a wine bottle, that's what -- but it does not smash, as Uschi has not put her full strength behind the projectile. Why is that? It's because she's leaping backwards, falling on her ass while her Very Dead left arm trails uselessly in a slushy puddle -- scared. Uschi is /scared/. Not even the shadows of her Mantle can hide the alarm on her face, a silent exclamation of feral terror in the dark. Once in a blue moon, eh Ush? Just before the bottle connects, those all-black eyes widen in panic, shutting tightly just before it collides with the darkling's face, the bottle bouncing down into the space between dumpster and wall. Before it even touches the ground there's a scraping of cloth/rags against bricks and metal, as far too quickly the figure of the girl backs away out of the crevice, the ogress perhaps able to scent or see the light streak of red that follows - a bit of blood, something scraped as the figure beneath the dumpster makes too hasty an exit. No longer is the darkling behind the dumpster, but a panicked voice whimpers from its other side, "I'm s-s-sorry, p-p-please don't--- I'll g-g-g-go, I'm g-going, I'm s-s-sorry. No h-h-hurting, I'll g-g-go!" Scent of blood in the air? Yeah, no doubt Uschi picks up on that real frickin' quick. From her spot - leaning crookedly ass-first in a slushy puddle - the Ogress has just enough time to consider what's going on, as the Terrifying City Blob Girl reconfigures herself into something-or-another on the other side of the dumpster. There is a rustling noise. That noise is the one-armed Ogress lurching to the side, the weight of her rucksack a counter-balance as Uschi steadies her body for a pounce an---... And no pounce comes. Because Uschi is -listening-. Listening, sniffing the air, and picking up on all those sensory data: the panic in that Terrifying City Blob Girl's whimper, it suggests that maybe... Maybe... Maybe she's -terrified-. Not terrifying? Uschi pauses to consider. It takes a wee bit of time. What is the nature of a monster? Ooph. Unseen, the Ogress winches. Hurts to think. Better take action. More rustling noises... ...Then a slice of horn, eye, cheek and mouth stretched over crooked teeth come into view, as Uschi peers around the edge of the dumpster and looks at the Darkling. "Yer gonna 'tract predators, bleedin'." Iridescent eyes flicker, looking for... Blood. Uschi's tone? Blunt, just like the rest of her. "Quit drippin', pull yerself together gi'l." Far too quickly, the moment Uschi appears... Jimena backs into the corner, half- squeezing herself back into the crevice, trembling, both bruise-colored hands gripping the sides of her hood and trying to keep her face covered, chin tucked down. A dark grey hoodie, ripped skinny jeans, a pair of dirty, worn chucks, a far too skinny form. There is blood scraping the outside of one palm, another scrape at her knee, a shred and scrape at her shoulder -- that hole probably wasn't in that thin hoodie before. And why is she in such a thin hoodie in a VERMONT WINTER?! "S-s-sorry. I'll g-g-go, I'll g-go, I w-w-was only looking around, I t-tried not to break r-rules." Poor Jimena is still sniffling, though her face isn't visible now, between the hoodie and her keeping her head down and protected. "Rules?" Uschi seems puzzled -- honestly puzzled -- at that mention. Rules?! It's like the Ogress doesn't even know what those /are/, which is probably not true. Right? The Ogress snorts, and gives the Darkling a long, inquisitive look. Underdressed, bleeding, and whimpering alone in the back alley in the bad side of town. Inside, Uschi is weighing up her options. It takes a moment, but that wide mouth of hers stretches into a thin line of unimpressed something-or-another as Uschi stares at Jimena. It could be - just might be - a flicker of compassion for the Autumn. Really, who hasn't had a mental breakdown in the gutter at least once? NOT USCHI. ...There is rustling... Then something thunks into Jimena's side. It is small, a round, and dried, and obviously a goblin fruit. Pinkish and the size of a crab apple. Blushberry? Blushberry. "Eat." A demand, then two beats before she speaks again. "Cat twenty-too." Difficult to say, those numbers come out a bit garbled from Uschi's mouth, but her one good hand is pointing down the alleyway now. "S'Wizened who blusters 'round the place's a real fuckin' whiner, but if ya can ignore his hot air an' lightnin'? Human's behind the counter'll give ya some food, and ya can kip on the sofas upstairs. S'only for us Wyrd types." A beat. Uschi looks pained, like saying so much has exhausted her. The trembling doesn't cease, but Jimena does glance up, a bit warily, at Uschi's commentary about the rules, a wary, quick thing, before her eyes lower again, hiding her head and face once more. And then there's MORE stuff being flung at her, and she jumps, scrambling away from it...before she notices what it is. And then stops, just staring at it in confusion. Then Uschi is ordering her to EAT it, and Jimena is...further confused and baffled, glancing once more to the crazy ogress... before she reluctantly reaches to pick up the dried thing. Yes, it was on the dirty alley floor, but apparently Jimena doesn't care, carefully biting into the fruit and chewing. It's...hard to tell if she's side-eyeing Uschi, considering her eyes are all-black, without iris to tell where her gaze lies. After, she checks her hands, her knee, the other scrapes around her flesh, wiping and finding fresh skin instead of open cuts. A hand reaches to touch her face, hopeful...but she flinches, and tugs the hood further down, before she turns her face to glance towards Uschi. "Th-th-thank you for the f-f-fruit." She says, cautious but apparently polite. And slightly confused. "And um. Th-the information. I'll-- I'll g-g-go now." There's something just plain unnatural about the smooth-jerky dichotomy of her movements, as she rises and shuffles backwards, to the end of the alley that involves NOT passing by Uschi. But after all, Uschi knows there are stranger things in Fort Brunsett than a spider-shadow strange thing. Trembling. Uschi watches Jimena like she was reading the wind rustling the leaves of an oak -- what's in store, stormy weather? If she's concerned about what she finds there with with Darkling, Uschi makes no outward sign of it; her half-shadowed expression is an impassive and difficult to navigate as any cliff face. Huh. Bit different from a few moments ago, when the Ogress was thrown back in terror. Oh how swift the winds change. "Eat." Uschi insists again, as Jimena seems wary of that fruit. She seems neither insulted by the Darkling's tone, or disgusted by the dirty alley floor -- in fact, when she /does/ start eating the dried Blushberry?... Uschi grunts with satisfaction, and starts to move -- rolling out of her crouch, and lumbering closer to the dumpster. At least she's moving /away/ from Jimena, although she's keeping her in her peripheral vision. Doesn't -seem- like the crying blob-girl is a threat, /and yet/, one can't be too careful... Another grunt in response to the thanks, and Uschi busies herself with looking in the dumpster again. "Ask fer Ralph, say Uschi sent'cha. Boy'll give yer some cake." Yeah. Because imagine Uschi has some kind of 'tab' there... Any more comments, or a good-bye, or a fair-thee-well? No. Uschi is silent; having moved on to her dirty work of dumpster diving. It's not until the Darkling has lurched out, down the alleyway, that the Ogress' iridescent eye-glints flick off in her direction, and she changes tack. Over to the ground - where the Darkling once sat - sniffing and snuffling, investigating the grimy floor, scouring and searching and seeking out... There could be some drops of blood, right? Mustn't let those go to waste.