Snippet #1503532

And she's lost. Something isn't right. Other music begins to play, making Gene hobble off of her bike after crashing into a bench. Oh cripes. Both her baby and Charlie's baby are injured badly, shit! She already felt bad that Charlie was grossed out by the exploding beetles. All thought melts away as that wretched music plays. Among the drugs in the city dragon salt is...well unexpected and illegal. They literally change the user. Said user becomes aggressive, insatiable in every aspect, careless, reckless, angry, and a touch of humanity is shaved off every few hits or so. Gene is no exception. Prologned exposure to not only dragon salt but every drug both known and unknown to the city has been drained through her system. As it were it's still unknown what could set off a dragon salt user. More specifically what could set off Gene on a bad trip. Apparently classical music can now be added to the list below; Alan, water, children and too many sweets.

Gene's hallucinating. She barely recognizes Vince as he looms over and greets the two, narrowing her eyes and hissing sharply at him. "Fuck off." used in a much darker hiss than normal. She does not appreciate this prick challenging her, that pianoman. Did he steal her power? Can he mimic another Super's powers for his own? Paranoia building she sways like some dumb beast, disorientating herself further. Briefly Gene's music slows down and blares like a radio thrown overboard. Her dragonites fall to the beat as well. Gene gets herself worked up as she hobbles away from her bike, her illusion melting as her focus is utterly lost. In her state of panic she begins another tune as the world fades away. Whatever was happening everyone seemed to pull out. The last thing she could remember was the music colliding and her being helped to Toxin by the least drugged dragonite she had on her. They all remained to fight literally to their deaths with the guards as Gene sped off through the city, taking every back road she knew and ducking with some hookers she got along with usually.

She had reached the warehouse before the others (how so she isn't even certain) but she knew morale would be low. So Gene switched into something comfortable. Cinching the top tightly she tugs her stockings up, smoothing them out and adjusting her snake heels. Her thong is adjusted accordingly as she stepped with ease downstairs. She just had a shot of whiskey to calm herself down, frowning out at the down trodden group. Their young leader most of all seemed irked. And poor Charlie...her baby was trashed. Toxin is hidden away for the time being. Gene wedges herself in Greg's lap and strokes his hair, he could use some pampering. She's already found the promised drug and tucked the vial away for later. Right now she's too exhausted to want to try any new toys. Then again...

Leaning back with Greg she relaxes against his chest with wary eyes on that James. He ruined her best friend's vehicle and now she's going to plot to ruin his face. Or something equally unpleasant. Now a logical person would reason it was unintentional. Gene is far from the realm of logic. The typically silent (hey if your main power was singing your throat would be worn out too. Although it's not all Gene's throat is often used for) junkie grabs a cigarette from the pack on the coffee table, she always has one there, and lights up as she leans back. "...I think pianoman is my evil twin. Or maybe my good one. Augh. Hate 'em." and cue a pout. Her free hand playfully ruffles Greg's hair as she gives him an appraising glance. Must be hard on him especially as the leader. Which is why Gene has appointed herself the unspoken team cheerleader; jumping around in skimpy outfits and screaming at the top of her lungs usually works.