Humans Are Gross (Zlakalia)

[Drayton]

37th of Summer, 506 AV

Vendors were screeching and buyers were haggling. Children whined and thieves sneaked. In a back alley someone screamed and blood was spilled. Not a soul took notice of the noise over the general bustle as the hot and sticky blood of a stranger sank into the cracks of the cobblestones. The shopping, stealing and shouting continued and a young girl spat on the street.

Her loose and flapping sandals barely missed the shining gob of spittle as she scuffed her way around Castle Commons. The full strength of Syna’s summer light seared into the girl’s shoulders where she had torn of the sleeves of a large black shirt. It’s copious rolls of fabric were cinched tight with a frayed belt that had been modified to fit her skinny waist. Nearly a dress the twelve year old’s top stopped just short enough to reveal the frayed edges of torn trousers and large, bony knees that interrupted the smooth flow of her thin legs.

Eleanor was sweaty and hungry and bored. At home her father slept, he worked nights after all, and her brother was most likely being abused by some back alley trash (not unlike herself) in the Slums. Might as well pinch a bite before the day gets any petching hotter… she thought to herself, grimacing as she turned and faced the crowd. Bodies pushed against one another, the stench and moisture of so many armpits mixing into one muggy odor that clung to the throats of the shoppers. It was an unappetizing prospect, but her stomach grouched nonetheless.

So the girl entered, pushing her way through the throng. Unfortunately, having not quite hit her growth spurt Eleanor repeatedly found her freckled face pressed against the soggy cloth of one person or another’s abdomen. Sunberthians were not known for their respectful way of treating others, and quickly shoved aside the scrawny child that stumbled into their path.

[Zlakalia]

Zlakalia moved through the city streets, dodging footfalls and garbage that littered the busy walkways. She was happy; her gait was long and pronouned, stretching out her legs slightly with every step. In a few short days she'd be fully grown; she could feel it. Then I can start looking for my true form! Zlakalia's current form was still a mix from her parents, that of a girl with overly long hair, stretched out around her and ending in models of tiny razors. But it was unsatisfying: her face was wrong, her limbs were wrong, everything felt so WRONG. Zlakalia was ruining her own mode, starting to dwell on the negatives again. She felt herself doing it, but couldn't stop. As she took a step a heavy foot landed on her back leg, pinning her down. The patron of this leg paid no heed and the pain crushed her dainty foot. Zlakalia screamed up at the man who didn't even bother to look down. Zlakalia went to pull the knife she had strapped to her back, but by the time she pulled it loose the man had shuffled off. Rage fueled her now and she grabbed the smooshed piece of her leg, tearing it free. She would have to get out of here and remold it later, but it still throbbed with pain. Zlakalia looked around quickly, trying to identify a place to hide, to get away from the crowd. At last she saw a short girl struggling to move through the people as she had to now. Perhaps we can help each other... Zlakalia let the pain and rage focus her, concentrating on he own safety first. With one leg down she couldn't walk normally, so she started to move 6 of the thickest tendrils of her hair. She firmed the hair up and pressed them into the ground, raising herself like each was a spider leg. Finally able to move Zlakalia used her hair to scurry quickly towards the girl. It still felt so uncomfortable, so strange to be misusing her form this way. But she had to. "Fairest greetings..." Zlakalia began as she finally broke free of the crowd and peered up at the girl. "I have a proposition for you! What say I help you through the crowd?"

[Drayton]

"YERCH!" The pubescent pitch of the girl's screech ripped through the murmur of the crowd, the hole left by it smothered quickly in the muttered haggling of so many indifferent strangers. What the- It's like a huge spider! And it's talking!

The young girl had raised a foot in disgust and surprise as the creeping thing spoke, and the tattered leather flapped over the disabled Pycon for a moment. But the girl withdrew her foot as quickly as she had lifted it. It has a face? It's like a little person, a creepy little clay-spider person. What was it saying... Help me?

She echoed her last thought out loud, the words falling harsh and heavy to the ground. "Help me! what are you anyway pipsqueak, and what makes you think I need any help, your help especially?" The heavy cloth of her shirt clung to the small girl's sweaty back as she bent to examine the thing closer. What on earth could it mean, it's down right pathetic, scuttling about down there. Nonetheless, she kept her toes well clear of the miniature person.

"Seriously, what are y-!" The large rump of a woman collided with Eleanor's cheek, and as ruffled gown met freckled skin the little girl stumbled to the ground. She had been caught of guard and off balance examining the Pycon and began unleashing a stream of curses that were drowned by the shuffle of feet raising dust around her. The girl tried not to make eye contact with the small creature she had fallen near. Protecting her bruised ego she sucked backward violently, collecting all the mucus she could before expectorating on the rustling skirt that had embarrassed her.

"Clumsy whore," she muttered to herself, casting a wary glance around her to see if she'd smashed the creeping thing. Damn, it's looking right at me. "All right, what do you want?" Her sandals slapped against the ground, raising a huffy cloud of dust as she spoke, ready to scoop herself, and perhaps the creature, up before the next swell in the crowd trampled them.

OOCSorry, she struggles with manners.

[Zlakalia]

Zlakalia dodged more feet, thick legs that watched where they were going about as well as a blinded bird attempting to fly. She was worried she'd have to dodge this new foot too, a purposeful strike in her direction, but the shoe never came down upon her. The girl was abrasive and nasty, like all these people, but Zlakalia couldn't let the opportunity pass by her. The girl fell as another clumsy sow moved past. Zlakalia took advantage of the sudden change in movement and get closer, holding one of her hands out from under her forest of hair-like tentacles and revealing her human figure underneath even more. "I think we could get each other through this crowd." Waiting less than a second Zlakalia moved over to the girl and hopped to her hand, pulling back her own hair further. "You have the size I need and I have the fear." On the last word she focused for a moment, reshaping her hair slightly. Strands pulled up and firmed, hair thinning and collecting towards the points at the end. Each little spike became a large sharp-looking knife, through it wouldn't be nearly as deadly as it looked to the touch. Zlakalia was exhausted, her form felt so strange, but she knew she could at least scare the simple-minded fools in front of her. Screaming as deep a voice as she could muster, which was surprisingly lower than her size would suggest, she shouted, "Make way! For your own safety!"

[Drayton]

The young girl bounded to her feet as the statuette climbed into her hand. Scrawny arm outstretched like she was dealing with yet another rat that had scuttled beneath her bed and died. “You’re a freaky little… Uh…Thing, aren’t you?” she asked, staring intently at the Pycon as she morphed.

The miniature medusa screeched in her hand, brandishing her bladed hair at the nearest passerby, who edged back carefully. The twelve year old, not to be outdone, was careful to add her most biting glare over the Pycon’s head. A chuckle of maliciousness mixed with anxiety rose out of Eleanor as she looked at the startled faces in the crowd and the writhing mass of clay in her hands. With Zlakalia bellowing and Eleanor ferrying the girls were able to edge their way to a less densely packed area.

“What’s your name, Thing? And how’d you do that twisty stuff with your… Um, hair?” The creature she was holding was unfamiliar to say the least. It’s unnatural, but why should I be scared of it, no bigger than a doll and squishy like it is. She could feel the cool moisture of the Pycon’s flesh pressed against her grubby palm. And then Eleanor noticed the mashed lump the creature was carrying. “Whatcha got there?” The initial wave of revulsion and shock had washed away, exposing a fresh curiosity at what she had found, or rather, who had found her in the marketplace.

[Zlakalia]

What Zlakalia Looks Like When She's This Young : The crowd parted, not as well as she imagined it would but enough to get the girls through. The plan worked; that was really the important thing. Now just to find out where this girl was headed. Zlakalia relaxed a bit in the girl's hand, several strands of hair returning to its limp form. "Pycon, is what I am. I don't see what's freaky." She really was exhausted, and the pain from her foot was definitely distracting at this point. Zlakalia was lucky to keep at many of the blades as menacing-looking as she was doing. The girl carrying her was awkward and scrawny, like she was still not adjusted to the form she inhabited. Big people always seemed to choose awkward forms, but apparently they couldn't change once fully grown. This one still had time. Zlakalia did her best to be polite, like her pyve always told her. Big people responded to politeness. "As for who I am, I go by Zlakalia. The hair changing isn't easy." Her voice was more noticeably marked by the exertion than she realized. At last the crowd started to thin, perhaps another temporary clear in the waves of people. The air still reeked of sweat and rot, but at least no one caused the girl's hand to rock and Zlakalia to have to keep herself balanced. She finally sat down in the girl's palm, her good leg stretching off the ends of her fingers and hanging down. "This?" Zlakalia held up the unrecognizable piece of herself, the former foot. "This was part of my leg. I couldn't have walked with my hair for long. I owe you for your assistance." Trying to be polite once more Zlakalia peered up at the girl and said, "What do they call you? And what brings you to the busy streets this day?"

[Drayton]

The girl’s thin upper lip was curling away from her teeth as she gawked at the Pycon, who was so unfazed as she carried her own crushed limb in her hands. She seemed out of breath, even though is looked like she was pliable enough. Eleanor scanned around and found an old crate to climb on, out of the crowd’s violent pulsing.

With a huff of her own the girl’s bony behind fell on the old wood, less gently than was comfortable. Climbing was hard to do gracefully with a pint-sized person in your hand. Assistance… Not like I’m a hero or anything, I was getting crushed out there. Eleanor’s heels banged against the weak wood of her throne as she watched the crowds awkwardly.

“What do they… Ele- Uh, Drayton. They call me Drayton,” the child thought, thinking of her mother, the name she gave her. She’s gone now, your father uses that name. Your friends say Drayton, better than that no name’s opinion. Now, what did bring her here today. Nothing else to do? Wanting to get away from his snores shaking the petching window panes? She wiped the sweat off of her forehead and with the movement of her arm the air in her gut reordered itself. Though Eleanor could feel her gut vibrating angrily the noise was drowned in the rush of the mob. “Uh, hunger. What brings you. Pycons don’t look like they’d eat people food.”

[Zlakalia]

Zlakalia was actually starting to feel faint for the overbearing pain of her leg. It was hitting her a lot harder now, her rage had fallen almost completely. She still wanted to find the fat man who hurt her, but there was no point dwelling on that now. Zlakalia smiled up at the girl as they moved, a little more twisted with pain than she meant it to look, but her parents' misguided wisdom for politeness still rang in her ears. When Drayton climbed on top of the crate Zlakalia almost fell out of her hand; only the sitting position she had just taken had kept her from falling completely. Zlakalia readjusted her weight and sat more comfortably, just trying to ignore the pain now. She wondered if her mother had hurt this much before she had finally been taken to her stone form. It hadn't been that long ago and Zlakalia had hardly given the death much thought. "I guess I'm just getting away from it all. You know what it's like to just want to be away from your pyve?" Zlakalia looked out over the market, at the various stinking people continued their dance-like scramble through the streets. Her hands worked at the mangled piece of her, trying to shape it back as a foot. It was just to distract her from the pain, even though the clay blob wasn't looking much like it used to at all. "There's no point to this all..." She spoke quietly and clearly not knowing that it was out loud.

[Drayton]

Pyve? What the petch is that?

"You mean like your home? Yeah, I get that. Not too fond of my place myself. Though, you have to admit, this is hardly an upgrade from anything." The little girl's laugh was harsher than one might have expected as she surveyed the crowds. Castle Commons was anything but a palace. Aside from the oppressive crush of bellies, elbows and odor a cloud of smog hung to the shops. The filthy air seemed to dribble off of canopy tops and leak on the wares below, apples, dried meat, cloth and jewelry, all were drenched in the haze of filth that clung to the city and anything unfortunate enough to be located within.

Glancing back from her people watching Eleanor noticed the pain and the muttering coming off of the Pycon's petite figure in waves. "Hey, Zlakalia, can you really re-form your foot from that hunk of clay? Anything I can do to help?" Her heels had stopped banging as she stared intently at the small creature and her struggles. Eleanor was hardly charitable, but watching the pain, and being so completely close to it, seemed to have caught her attention inescapably.

[Zlakalia]

"Um, hm. Yeah, a pyve is kinda like a home. It's more like a bunch of homes is a pyve, so like a little city?" Zlakalia contemplated her own explanation, thinking about this human would take it. Humans had a funny way of taking things, usually. At the second part of the comment, though, Zlakalia laughed, adding her own sarcastic comment, "Ha, a crate in the middle of the market? How isn't this an upgrade?" She gave Drayton a weak smile, the pain keeping it from being full. Zlakalia hoped her speech wasn't as clearly affected as she felt it was. Zlakalia struggled with the little ball in her hands, the shape still not taking form the way she wanted it to. "It's a lot easier when I have the piece like this. I'm lucky that tub of lard didn't get it stuck to his foot." She tried to concentrate, tried to focus, but the pain was getting to be more than she was accustomed to ever having. "If I could just get it back to shape I could reattach it, it would only take a few hours to heal. Otherwise it will take days." From her voice to her facial expressions to even the way her shoulders slumped Zlakalia was clearly upset.