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Snippet #2822566

located in Titan's Fall, a part of The Abyssal Paradox, one of the many universes on RPG.

Titan's Fall

March, 2045. A dangerous murderer has struck again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Máire Morgan Character Portrait: Jericho-Jemma Alborn
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Footnotes

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Two emotions warred in J-3 for a moment, though, Guy Manshape’s face remained impartial and blank for perhaps a moment too long… All the same, ‘he’ blinked and took a moment to respond.

The fact that the hair didn’t really affect the rat-man beyond giving him some mild discomfort was… Frustrating to J-3, but at the same time; the fact that they were NOW moving where they needed to was deeply appreciated.

Yeah… Gravechills. Right. … This way to the meat house. You stay outside with her when we go. Don’t want you to try and steal from me or anything, y’hear?

And then they were off, Guy Manshape not even sparing a glance back at The Blonde One. She would just have to trust him, and the rat creature would have to trust her not to commit horrible acts of violence! Either way, J-3 led them both back into the thoroughfare, sticking to side paths and alleys, much the way that Rat had.
Then, after picking a relatively random spot, J-3 turned and held up a hand for them both to stop.

They were in the alley of some three story building, perhaps a bar? Or a housing unit of some sort? It didn’t matter. He spoke quietly, crouching down and letting the ink in his body pulse against the bones of his legs. Changes, swift and hidden, took place below the flesh.
Stay here. I keep my supplies on the roof. I’ll return in a moment.

His shins abruptly became aglow, sparkling with blue and green bio-luminescent light. Then, without further ado, he leapt up and into the air. The rush of wind against his ears was exhilarating, and the gentle ‘kl-thmp’ of his heels touching rooftop was equally cherished.
He moved out of sight, taking only a half-a-heartbeat to yank on his left arm, and then his left leg. He made no sound. Eerily silent the entire time.
Ink swirled, and where the bleeding stumps used to be, new limbs took up residence.

Then came the brief process of ripping, tearing, and mashing the limbs into somewhat unrecognizable hunks of meat. Ink again whirled, and in his hands swiftly formed a ‘backpack’ of leather.
Back to the ground did J-3 return, legs flashing and dimly glowing with bioluminescence.

Ready to go.