ic contact for maskormenace

[pillz]

Text/audio/video OK.

Up to R for language, individual threads/comments to be marked with warnings accordingly in the subject header if you plase.

Comments

[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.