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First Saga

[To say that Excel was adaptive would be an understatement. Not only is she quite accustomed to being thrown in prison by the Immigration Bureau, she has spent the past few weeks living out in the streets. Hell, she even managed to build her own makeshift house and eat off of plants growing on the ground, pigeons, and the contaminated fish swimming in the dirty city rivers. Roughing it is not at all a big deal for a girl like her.

To find herself suddenly awake in a house, however, is. She wakes up with or without the help of the alarms and looks around with eyes covered by still heavy eyelids. Everything around her seems much... nicer. Far more, well... bourgeois than what she is already accustomed to. She looks down at her left and sees a... man? Woman? Possibly a man.

... Why the hell is there even a man next to her?

Sparing no time at all, Excel raises her foot and kicks the man out of the bed before attempting to pin him down.]

Thought you could get away with it, didja!? You find some girl out in the streets, drug her, take her back to your house, and think everything is still peaches and cream!? No! No! Bad boy! But I bet you wouldn't have thought that this girl you kidnapped is a master of fifty different killing techniques!

My entire body is a hardened weapon to be used as willed by Lord Il Palazzo in his grand quest, not by some lonely, bourgeois... ... shemale?

[Action: 1767 Beaver]

[Forget that shemale. Kidnapper or not, she's going to take advantage of this as much as possible. It's not like she's footing the bill on anything anyway. Downstairs, Excel is pulling out just about everything from inside the fridge from the meat to the vegetables to the... glass of milk. With some bread, she can make this into quite the sandwich. After frying up the meat, she grabs the two slices of bread, puts them together, she starts scarfing it down as she stands.]

... Ohh.

I haven't had a decent square meal in weeks. But with this sandwich, this alone, I believe I may fight for yet another hundred years! ... eh, still hungry.

[Phone]

SPIDERS! HORRIBLE ARANEIDE INVADERS DOWN MY THROAT! WHAT THE BULL IS IN THIS MILK!? HAS SCIENCE BRED A HORRIBLE COMBINATION OF A COW AND ARACHNID!? A COWRACHNID!?

THROAT, ITCHING, BURNING! SPIDER MILK!

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I guess no one told you not to drink the milk...

The bottle was locked and closed! How do those eight-legged fiends even stay alive in milk!? Are these special, amphibian, milk-breathing spiders!? WHAT!?

It's evil magic.

Plausible answers that border on realistic from the peanut gallery, s'il vous plait.

You're not going to get realistic answers because it's not realistic.

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....What are you babbling about?

The calcium in milk doesn't help your bones grow! It explodes into spiders in your throat!

Ooooookay.

You think you could tell me the brand your drinking? Think I'd like to avoid that.

It's the milk, the milk. Take it from me: they put something inside it before bottling it all up. The Milkman is a sadist and a conspirator at the highest level.

[Sad thing is that she's right...]

Riiiiight, sure it's the milk. Of course. Why should I expect anything to be normal here.

[He doesn't necessarily believe Excel, but at the same time? He's seen and heard of weirder. And he sure as hell isn't going to experiment.]

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[Olivier sighs.]

You shouldn't drink the milk delivered by the milkman, only the one from the store. Spiders is one of the more mild additives.

Ya think!? Why aren't there any warning labels on the bottle!? IT BOTHERS SAYING IT'S PASTEURIZED, SO WHY THE HELL NOT!? AND FURTHERMO...

... mild? No kidding. What else coulda happened?

[She doesn't see any sense in shouting over the girl, and waits until she calms down.]

First of all, there aren't any warning labels because the milkman likes to see people in pain.

Second of all, you could have died instantly from drinking the milk, could have swallowed razor blades, or even be hallucinating. Every so often, some of the dairy milk is clean, but it's not worth the risk of drinking it.

Yo, welcome to Mayfield.

CANCEL THE ARACHNOID WELCOMING PARTY! EIGHT LEGS ARE SIX MORE THAN NEEDED!

Yeah, for future reference... The milkman's in on the whole shitty horror movie theme.

... Has he considered finding a new job? Or better yet, have the people who hired him considered firing him!? This is clearly not up to regulations or maybe they are and this is some bizarro world that I've been tossed into by the universe's convenient plot device! Waking up next to a shemale, drinking milk riddled with live spiders, and furthermore, who the heck are you?

I thought I dialed the emergency number.

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[Dist is not accustomed to waking up in this manner. In fact, he's rather groggy until he actually hits the ground, and he's not quick enough to keep from being pinned. He's not the cooperating sort, though.]

What is wrong with you?! I'm not the one who brought you here; get off me!

[Excel does not comply. She keeps Dist pinned down and despite his struggling, he might find that the girl appears to be a little stronger than she looks. He may not break free anytime soon.]

Yeah, yeah, like I'm supposed to believe that from the guy I caught sleeping right next to me. Care to come up with a better excuse? Or how 'bout buying a vowel?

I'm just as much a prisoner as you, brute! You were moved in to be my wife but I am not interested! ...Did you call me a shemale?

[Delayed reaction, a bit. Not that Dist has given up struggling, though; futile or not, he's writhing on the floor as best he can. Given her strength, that's not much.]

Interested, he says! Haw! There is only one man's interest that I strive to achieve and you're hardly a man at all.

The androgyny doesn't help, y'know.

[Struggle all you'd like, but until she can determine whether you're not a threat or that you won't run off, she'll keep you pinned down.]

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Well, at least it was just spiders. It could have been something deadlier. Hey, you are alright, right?

There's a horrible itching down my throat, but at least the biting and the wriggling stopped. Those milkrachnids can all burn in my stomach acid.

You could just force yourself to throw them all up.

[She would, but she's not sure she wants to see the blood in her vomit. Hyatt provides enough of that to the group.]

And give them mercy by depriving them of their burning, makeshift, spider hell? I think not! 'Sides, I hear there's a lot of protein in spiders. They may have won the battle against my throat, but their nutrients just go right back to me.

They're only making me stronger! Those (blood) suckers.

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