ic contact for maskormenace

[pillz]

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[pillz]

[prototypes. that sounds fun. kavinsky's eyes flicker, mild interest, and he quickens his step to follow her a little.

into whatever close, dark spaces the spider invited the fly.]

Claustrophobia ain't one of my problems, [he says.] Don't you worry.

[instars]

[She opens a door that leads into a basement, and then goes over to what looks like a crawlspace door, just barely tall enough for a child standing. She has to stoop to go through it but she looks oddly okay with it - it doesn't look ungainly or uncomfortable at all.

And then she turns a bit.]

Here.

[The corridor is narrow, cramped, and small, but it's not long, and it opens to a small room - more like a chamber. There's a hanging caged light at the top, and there's only enough room for two people to stand in it, because the rest of it is filled with long, pale gold colored cylinders, the size of a grown man, stacked up almost to the top. They have a strange texture - fuzzy almost. They look soft, certainly, and it's a bit clear that they're made of some kind of thread.

They're cocoons.]

I need more storage space for these.

[pillz]

[finding himself in a small space, kavinsky finds his neck prickling slightly with discomfort. he does not, however, retreat because that would be lame. and he is characterized by a certain amount of morbid curiosity at times such as these, in a strange new world with a profoundly strange young woman.

he stares at the coccoons. then he reaches up, grasps around the top of his head, manages to get his sunglasses. puts them onto his face for a long moment. then pushes them up again. that was pointless.]

You're into some weird shit, Satya W, [he says. he cocks his head, the sunglasses sitting firmly on the over-gelled encrustation on the roof of his skull.] Can you open one of 'em up? Wanna see what's inside.

[instars]

[She tilts her chin down. She knew he would ask, and that's why she specifically didn't put any with the body parts near the top. They're impossible to slice through, although they burn easily, but opening a spiders cocoon is a feat for a spider.

She licks her fingers and opens one up. She makes it look easy, like peeling a banana.

Inside are packets of fluid, packed in slick hospital plastic. It's a strange, hypnotic blue.]

Rather unimpressive, I think.

But if you want this, it's yours.

[pillz]

[kavinsky thinks this is so disgusting, the coccoon was hairy. which is as much why he reaches in to tag one bag o' blue, as why he feels repulsed by the very idea. he rubs it with his other palm for a brief moment, reassuring himself that the synthetic material is commonplace to whatever holds plasma and the other fluids generally required for medical practice. not that he's had extensive practice with that kind of thing, but whatever, he's come down off stimulants bug-eyed at four am in the morning in time to catch e.r. reruns before so.

slosh slosh.]

Tell me enough about it to gimme a bad idea, [he suggests, pleased with the peculiar color, the promise of unfamiliar substance.]

[instars]

That is a synthesized compound that replicates necrotic destruction of flesh.

["Synthesized". It's her own venom that she's been milking and tinkering with.]

I'm trying to eliminate the necrotic element in half and strengthen it in the other half, but unfortunately, chemistry is not my area so it's taking me longer than anticipated. It can't be exposed to sunlight in this form, thus the relatively unorthodox method of storage.

If you drink it in it's current state, it'll eat a hole through your stomach.

how do u feel if he approaches jesse pinkman to see if he can get it lab analyzed c:

[pillz]

[spitting in a cup is one way to synthesize a thing. kavinsky squeezes the bag a little, interested. curious. that it affects flesh but not, apparently, a flimsy skein of plastic. he wonders if it'd affect him. he doubts it, so then he wonders how it'd taste, but there's no real interest there. kavinsky is not adventurous in all the ways that it's good or healthy to be.]

Nice.

[he tosses up the bag and catches it again. he angles a glance at her.] Do I get the whole hairbag, or just this li'l one?

I'm down!

[instars]

You can have the entire open case, although I wouldn't play with it too much.

It's not easy to trace but it doesn't mean the police can't do it.

[Eh. She's not terribly fussed.]

[pillz]

[kavinsky looks pretty pleased to be playing with toxic substances. life of kavinsky, go figure.]

Sweet. [he then underhand throws the baggie back into the coccoon, watching it slither to a stop.] So you wanna store these giant hair sacks of weird blue goo in a building under my name. Basically. And I can do whatever the fuck else I want with 'em. That sound right?

[he cocks his head at her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.]

[instars]

And pay you for it.

If that suits you.

[She looks back over at her pile of cocoons. She really should consider an eggsac, but who has the time?]

[pillz]

[kavinsky glances across the rest of the cocoons in a moment. his eyes sharpen, flatten, then brighten again, and then he looks back at the woman. but he doesn't mention them. necrotic juice. who needs more than that?

not him. not for awhile, anyway. he's a distractible character.]

Suits me just fine, kittentits, [he says.] When we gonna do the paperwork?

[instars]

My tits aren't very kittenlike. Much prettier than that.

[She says that matter-of-factly.]

This week. I'll draw up the contract.

[pillz]

[a shrug from our neighborhood shitty incidentally gay asshole.] I got low standards, [he offers.] I got time this week.

Prefer doing business at night, if it's all the same to you. Just shoot me a text. I'll show up.

[instars]

Yes.

Yes, all right.