Because you all want to be stalked by a tentacle beast

[fuckinghysterical]

CHARACTERS: Laughing Octopus and IT COULD BE YOU!!!
LOCATION: Wherever your character is (as long as it isn't in a personal cabin or behind a locked door).
WARNINGS: Stalking and probably occasional swearing from her. I don't expect any violence to come up, but just in case, she doesn't take too kindly to being threatened.
SUMMARY: She's got her Octopus suit now, and after months of being bored out of her mind, she looks to test it out... by stalking anyone she comes across and having a little fun with the camouflage and shapeshifting capabilities of her suit. People she's friends with? Boy, oh boy, does she have something to show off to you.

Oh, and also Murphy will get ink puked on him, because his life doesn't suck enough.
NOTES: You can pick your poison of how she stalks on your character, with the scenarios described. If you should choose the version where she camouflages herself, even if her suit is really good at making her blend into her surroundings, she's not perfect. So feel free to have your character notice and call her out, if they're particularly astute. Action or prose is perfectly fine with me, I'll match whatever you do.

Also, it'd be awesome if people who haven't filled out her permissions post could do so here!


[As useful as stalking the network could be, sometimes, it got to be pretty boring when she was doing it constantly for about two months. So when Laughing Beauty found her Octopus suit in hr locker, after the last jump, not only was she happy to have the security the suit provided her, but also the freedom to do more.

Though it's main purpose was for battle, she had no reason to attack anyone on board the Tranquility, but LB wasn't about to let her suit lying around idly; she needed to test out the main functions at least, to make sure they worked. And hey, maybe she could have a little fun by doing so.

So creeping amongst the area of the ship, there's a couple of possibilities that the Octopus might try out:

She might be creeping above your character silently, whether she found some rafters to walk around on or she's using the tentacles of her suit to hold herself in place (maybe even hanging herself upside-down). Either way, she'll be following your character around, trying to eventually get to a position where she can jump out when she thinks her target is least suspecting it, to give them a good (but hopefully harmless) scare.

Alternatively, she the Octopus actually be somewhere on the floor, attempting to disguise herself with her surroundings by either blending in nearly flawlessly with the wall or shifting herself to appear as something else entirely, whether it appears to be an oddly placed painting, a creepy anatomy model, what appears to be a weirdly thick wire, or maybe even a box with tentacles spilling from it (she liked to think it was a good disguise against Snake).

Whatever method she uses, she'll be mostly quiet, though inevitably the room will still occasionally filled with her laughter; this time, however, the suit will distort her speech to make the giggling sound far more sinister than usual in a weird, distorted sounding double voice.

Even if she runs into someone she knows, she's still going to follow them around for a little bit, just for a little fun.]


For Murphy only:

Sometime after the Octopus has her fun with everyone, she's wandering the halls again, but instead as a "Beauty" without the tentacle suit. While it was a good source of entertainment today, she inevitably used the ink fog function of her suit a little too much and wasn't feeling particularly well after retreating to her room and taking the suit off.

Walking haggardly, her posture was similar to a zombie's, as it always took a little time to adjust between the transition from Beast to Beauty. A hand trails along a nearby wall, which helps keep the balance while she attempts to make it to a bathroom, though she really doesn't know where she's going in her groggy state, at the moment.

Pausing every now and then -- even at her slow pace -- a mutter of a giggle escapes her lips before she forces herself to keep moving. She'd rather not leave a mess in the hallway, but at this rate, LB wasn't sure just how much further she could make it.

Comments

[yardbird]

LB wasn't the only haggard one here. Granted, it was difficult to say whether there was a time and place that Murphy Pendleton wasn't haggard. He was just more so after his frequent work in the oxygen gardens. Just had to keep himself busy, one way or another.

He'd been on his way to the kitchens to grab a quick bite when he began to hear an adjacent fit of familiar giggles. Murphy stopped for a moment to take notice in that it wasn't, in fact, a symptom of his own fatigue. His suspicions were confirmed when he turned around the corner of the hallway, only to discover a lithe silhouette of a person, ambling down the corridor.

Nope.

Nope.

She'd stopped for the time being. At this point, this man's immediate inclination would have been to throw whatever it was he had on him at any ambling forms in dark places, turn tail, and run. Or wail on it until it stopped screaming and thrashing and clawing. Seeing that it was neither a monster, nor did Murphy have anything to throw, he went with the more sensible response to this situation and started to follow her.

"Hey..." He didn't want to risk startling her, so he went ahead with announcing his presence first. "You alright?"

Part of him just said, No, dumbass. Of course she's not alright. And it's not your problem, either. Hell if Murphy ever listened to sense, though.

[fuckinghysterical]

So focused on finding a washroom to alleviate the wave of nausea pulsating through her, she actually is still a little taken aback when a voice pulls her mind away from that single goal. Pausing again, LB searches the hallway with widened eyes, though with a startled curiosity more than alarm.

Once she gets a good vision on Murphy, however, her expression calms considerably. Right, she had seen this man before, though it had been some time. He had seemed... all right? She really needed to find a toilet or something to relief herself with, but it wouldn't be good to leave without saying a word, would it? Besides, maybe he could help her.

"Ah, Murphy. I'm-- I, uh..." An uneasy smile passes through her lips, while she pauses to give an especially awkward sounding laugh, while taking a couple of shaky steps toward him. "I need to find a bathroom. I can't, I--"

Not the most elegant sentence LB had uttered out, but the wave of nausea was suddenly feeling a lot worse, but she needed to try to control herself! It would be really bad if it happened here. Her face shifts oddly, while a hand slowly snakes up her cheek, as if that would somehow help control her body better.

It probably wasn't going to last too long, however.

[yardbird]

As she turned and talked to him, Murphy blinked.

It was LB.

She also didn't look so good.

"...You don't look so good." Murphy was able to articulate, and of course -- why else would someone need to get to the bathroom, if they were all fine and dandy?

He glanced around, trying to figure out where they were, and how far the nearest restrooms were. LB looked like she was about to hurl, but he couldn't be sure...

Murphy started to hold out his hand to her, just in case if she needed the support. "Don't worry, I'll help get you to--"

[fuckinghysterical]

LB opens her mouth to attempt to respond to his observation, but promptly clasps it shut again as she could feel it start to course through her body. Oh god, there really wasn't going to be any stopping this, was there?

Regardless, she started to limp toward Murphy's hand anyway, in some slight sliver of a hope that maybe she could get out of embarrassing herself. She even manages to shakily grasp his wrist with a thumb and index finger before surrendering herself to a fit of laughter. At that point, she lost the last bit of control.

Her head bobs until the giggling stops, but then suddenly, her head rises sharply and a fountain of black ink spills from her mouth all over Murphy, but mostly on his clothes. The worst part is that the stream of ink vomit didn't even seem to stop for what seemed like an eternity -- probably around thirty seconds (which was far longer than anyone else had continuously vomited).

Once the ink stream finally stops, LB's entire body slouches forward, coughing while she tried to recover from spewing so much shit from her throat.

[yardbird]

--to the bathroom.

At least, that was what Murphy was going to say, before his mouth snapped shut. Which was probably a good thing, because in the course of the next several seconds, he was going to have several pints (was it pints? God, he wasn't thinking in metrics at the moment) of ink hurled his way.

Murphy was just too stunned to even move, even long after she was finished. Murphy's hand was still extended, even if LB probably wasn't ever going to take it; his body poised as he had a train of thought here, but it was gone now.

Then came only a deadpan response:

"...Guess I'll take that as a no."

[fuckinghysterical]

It takes LB so long to recover from hurling so much ink, that she doesn't even register the tone of Murphy's response -- or really anything he said at all. When she does finally feel the nauseating sensation go away, her head slowly angles up at the man she was awkwardly slouched over in front of, grimacing when she could already tell that her particular brand of vomit had gotten all over his clothes.

Fuck. That was not supposed to happen. Even puking at some random spot in the hallway would have been better than this!

"I, uh--" She nervously begins to stammer, knowing that she should say something, but it was really hard to figure out what to say in a situation like this. "I'm sorry!"

Laughing nervously, LB glances around the hallway, backing up a few steps while her hands fidget with themselves awkwardly. "I... I didn't think this would happen! Not so soon...!"

[yardbird]

Murphy had no idea how he should react. He'd been through a lot, seen a lot, but he could honestly say that he'd never, in his entire fucked up existence, had someone literally puke a whole lot of black substance all over him.

Black substance that, as it turned out, resembled ink for some reason.

Why, though? Why ink? Why vomit? Why anything?

Despite LB's yammering apologies, Murphy just sighed -- part of him just didn't even want to go there. Not while he could feel rivers of dark ink dribbling down the sides of his face, reminding him that, yes. Yes, that did indeed just happen. "S'fine, just... Ugh, y'know what? Scratch what I said. Should probably... take you to the medbay or somethin'. Shit..."

He had no idea what they could do for her there, but it was better than letting LB do that to some other poor sucker who happened to catch her in the hallways. Unless if they deserved it, of course. Then Murphy would gladly point them in her direction.

[fuckinghysterical]

The really funny thing about it all was that LB no longer felt sick in the slightest. It... might not have been the most favorable way to allay her queasy feelings away, but there was no denying that getting the ink out of her system -- one way or the other -- really did wonders for her state of being.

So when Murphy suggests she go to the med bay, LB straightens her posture and smiles uneasily at him to try to ease his mind about her. "No, no! It-- it's fine. Really!"

Her hands begin to reach out to his shoulder, but her fingertips stop just millimeters from the ink-soaked clothes. Oh, right.

"The truth is, uh, I actually feel a lot better now." A laugh passes while she slowly slides her hand back down to the side of her waist. "Just... getting that out of my body is good enough."

A funny look passes through her features, while she quietly adds:

"Even if it was all over you."

[yardbird]

"Right. That's, er... great to hear. Better."

Though he didn't sound as relieved by it as he actually was, and even more so that she had second thoughts about reaching out to him then. But really, good to know you're doing so much better now, LB. Murphy is quietly happy for you.

Never mind the fact that he had no idea how someone could manage to keep such an inhuman amount of ink in their system...

"Well, if you're sure, I should probably go and, uh... get changed, I guess..." Soaked as he was, ink was no rainwater that would simply dry off.

Dammit, he liked these clothes, too. They were his clothes. Not a stupid jumpsuit identifying him by number rather than his name. He was getting used to trying to at least act like an abiding citizen of society.

[fuckinghysterical]

Indeed, she didn't look entirely convinced of Murphy's assurance, but she wasn't about to say anything on it either and possibly make this already awkward situation worse. A short giggle passes while LB lifts a hand to rub at the back of her neck.

"Yeah, um... I'm really sorry about that." Yes, she already apologized, but she was really bad about apologizing more than she needed to. "Obviously, I don't have anything that would fit you, but - ah... I'll keep my eye open for some kind of cleaning supplies."

The brief thought of offering him instant noodles came up, in her mind, but even LB realized that getting out of ink soaked clothes were probably just a little more important than eating food that might make him feel better.

[yardbird]

If not for the fact that Murphy was already familiar with LB's little... quirk, he might've taken her fit differently. Mocking, maybe. He knew that she wasn't.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. As a result, he only wound up smearing the ink even worse, and just made it spread. Not that he could see that.

"I'm good. Got some spare clothes back in my room..." Which was a fucking godsend, in retrospect. He didn't have much, but it was better than having to force himself into another standard uniform.

He liked having variety. Freedom. Stupid as it might be.

"Thanks... for the offer, though." Not for puking on him, of course.

[fuckinghysterical]

"Ah, okay, well... that's good, I guess." She supposed she should have figured he would have more clothes, but hearing from Murphy himself that he indeed did have a few spares was mildly relieving to her, though a grimace forms as he attempts to wipe his face off. Holy shit, she really did manage to hit nearly every inch of him.

Thinking, for a few moments, she tries to see if she can remember any easy solutions of getting the ink out; she always did have trouble cutting off the ink sacs of octopus, as a child. However, the thought of ink, and how she associated it with a certain incident threatened to creep among her thoughts. Cutting off that train of thought immediately, LB rubs at her head roughly, laughing again as she did so.

"I... I wish I knew how to help, I do, but - you should probably really go clean off what you can."

[yardbird]

"Yeah, that's the plan. Don't worry about it." He stopped, his jaw clenched. He wasn't the most adept when it came to reading people, but LB was as subtle as brick to the face. "They're just... clothes."

Just clothes.

He sighed, and started to head off towards the nearest locker area. "Anyway, glad you're feelin' better now. That's what matters."

In any case, Murphy figured he'd probably be spending some quality time in the showers just trying to clean himself off. His clothes are going to be another matter entirely, with the lack of dry cleaning.

[fuckinghysterical]

"Well, your clothes matter too, but..." She sighs, letting her sentence trail off, as she really wasn't sure how to finish it anyway. Averting her thoughts to the current situation, LB moves her hands from her face to give a faint wave.

"Ah, good luck getting that off." She smiles weakly. "I - I always had trouble getting it off my skin, when I was younger, but - maybe you'll have better luck."