404/A Crash Landing

A Crash Landing
Date of Scene:	13 May 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Morrigan MacIntyre, 298

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Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
It's near midnight on Friday and for once Morrigan isn't sitting in her lab at Mount Sinai. Could be because she's been ordered off of work given the Albert Wesker break in. So it's no surprise that the woman is working at home.

She's seated at the kitchen island with her laptop in front of her. She enters in the word 'ANGEL' the one that Wesker told her to so she could access the information he gave her about the T-Virus. She's expecting a nice quiet night at home. But given her week she's also expecting to have her parents call to check on her or her friend Veronica to try to get her out to some club to relax and try to pick up a guy.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    The summer air had made for quite a night for Patrick Mulligan's patrol. A car parked half a mile away meant a brisque walk. He liked the midnight sky out here. But that was before he ended up meeting Carnage for the first time. Before he came to blows in a squabble between Carnage and Venom. A sharp ear in the high rise might have heard them arguing over what to do with something, but the people of Manhattan knew better than to look out the window.
    But, then, the outside world came, quite literally, crashing in on Morrigan MacIntyre. Patrick's body had been discarded by Carnage violently, landing halfway through one of her windows, before his body slid inward. Red stains smeered along the wall as his body slumped suddenly. Outside, there was a shrill bit of laughter--Kletus delighted in particularly annoyingly Patrick's body did everything. But, soon, that world was chased off. Morrigan was left with a dying man.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan was a bit hyper vigilant tonight given the week she'd had. So when there's the sound of raised voices, the woman stops and takes a sip of her tea. Then the hair rises slightly on the back of her neck. Like the weird feeling of someone walking over your grave.

The shattering of glass and the shards exploding past her head make her scream and dive under the table. She wasn't sure what the hell was happening, nor was she so keen to crawl out at the moment with that shrill laughter was invading her ears.

Then all is quiet, the redhead crawls out from under the table, not minding the cuts to her palms. When she sees the slumped body there's a bit of a gasp and then her medical training kicks in as she rushes over to the unknown mans body to start assessing the damage.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    Patrick's pulse was starting to slow, but, it wasn't failing. It was almost as if something were preventing it from getting any worse. Even the bleeding seems to slow--Given a few minutes it could even stop entirely, clotted mysteriously quickly by ... something unseen. But, the man doesn't seem to stir or come to consciousness. Deep within his mind, something else was going on. Of course, Patrick's shredded clothing offered somewhat of an explanation as to why--Why not? He was a Cop. Cops didn't have the best life expectancy around here.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"Oh sweet Jesus..." Morrigan whispers as she realizes it's a cop. Once she gets a better look at him she realizes she's seen his face before. "Fuck." the Irish woman growls out as she gets to her feet. Her tennis shoes squeak through some of the blood as she runs to get her medical kit out of the hall closet.

She's back in a matter of moments and the Doctor starts to work to get the bleeding to stop. That's when she realizes that something is stopping the bleeding. She had seen something similar, but not this bad. "Just don't die on me, Officer Mulligan." she mutters as she starts to work to get the serious wounds taken care of.

All the while there's the sound of sirens off in the distance.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    Patrick's breathing, though shallow, remained firm. His lips were closed. What came next could not possibly come from his mouth. "What it this ... die?" The voice asks curiously. It wasn't a harsh voice so much as otherworldly. A voice as seemingly distant as any of the stars could be. It met the ear with an alien sensation. Yet, it was also full of something. Was it curiosity? Wonder? Hard to tell.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan's violet eyes flick to the mans lips when she hears the voice. But it can't possibly be him. So who asked? She feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she checks Patrick's pulse again. Still there.

"To die is to mean that you no longer breathe. You are gone from this world." she explains. "Death is basically the end of your life." she states. Who the hell was she talking to?!

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    The voice remained quiet for a long moment. It was considering something. Newly born into the world, it had no knowledge of such things. FOr some reason. There were things he could remember. Carnage--Cletus Kasady--Or 'father', and Venom--Eddie Brock, 'Grandfather'. He could even draw on some of their memories, and yet, he couldn't remember what it was he, or they, were. "If he ceases to breath, that is the end of his biologic function, then?" The voice finally responds. As soon as he speaks, Patrick's lungs become stronger. His breathing begins to steady out at a greater pace as autonomic function is hijacked by the symbiote.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan's fingers can't help but shake a moment when the voice goes quiet. Then it's there again. "Yes. If he stops breathing he'll die. If his heart stops beating he'll die." she tells the voice. Maybe she needed a vacation. She was starting to hear things.

"Who are you?" she asks as she works on getting Officer Mulligan in some semblance of not a bloody mess. "I can hear the police on the way. This is going to be a mess." she says quietly.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    Again, the symbiote takes it's time before it responds to such questions. It was busy saving Patrick's life, reforming tissue damage within and forcing the body to speed through the process of healing. What were friends for? "The dark one--Venom--Called me Toxin. I suppose that will have to do..." It says in return to her question. At the mention of the Police, Patrick seemingly comes to. "Wh-What? Police?" He says, groggily clawing for something to help himself rise. "I am the Cops..." He says, seemingly affirming that within his own mind.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan tries to piece the mans shirt back together, but there's not much left of it. At least she wasn't oogling him. When the alien voice answers again she nods, she'd heard of Venom, but she didn't know much else. "Are you following the officer?" she asks the voice.

Then Patrick is coming to and she reaches out to help steady him, "You shouldn't be up. Something through you through a wall." she tells him with a frown. But he was already up, "There's officers and a firetruck on the way from what I can hear." she tells him. "I know you're the police." she chuckles tiredly.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    As Patrick rouses and comes to grips with his newfound endurance, Toxin falls eerily quiet. Almost as if he'd simply ... left. A Guardian Angel, perhaps. "Not someone--Something. Carnage. That madman that used to be Cletus Kasady," he says, groaning a bit as he reaches up to rub at his eyes. Then, he glances at the window and the damages.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"You really shouldn't move until we get you to the hospital and get you checked out...run some tests." Morrigan tells him with a frown. "And I said something, not someone. What the hell kinda mortal tosses people through high rise walls?" she shakes her head.

There's a look to her wall and she just laughs, "Don't even worry about it...it's a hazard of living in New York I guess." she admits. "What a week..." she breathes out. She's got his blood all over her, but that hasn't registered yet.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    "Sorry about that," he says again, before he rubs at his shoulder a moment. "Look, I'll get out of your hair. I think there's a fund for property damages or something. Did you have insurance?" He asks, as he begins to limp slightly towards the door.
    "Come now, Pats, you're being rude. The girl offered hospitality... and we haven't even had dinner!" A thick, red and black tendril snaps out from Patrick's feet. A black mass flows along Patrick's leg--The origin of the tendril snapping to grab at Morrigan's hand.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan just gives a chuckle as she runs her hand through her hair, "Yeah, I've got insurance. It's nothing to worry about. I'll have someone make a report." she tells him. "I'm serious...you shouldn't be moving." she tells him as she heads after him.

She stops when she hears the alien voice again and she watches as the red and black tendril flows up Patrick's leg, "What the..." she manages to get out before that tendril grabs her hand. There's a bit of a shriek as she can't break the grip he has.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    It took a moment for Patrick to get a grip on what he was looking at. By the time he realized it, Toxin had covered most of his lower half in the oil-black mass. But even as he watched, he was frozen in place. As he watches, the red and black tendril tugs on Morrigan's wrist, tugging and lifting to draw her closer. It was -strong-. Impossibly strong.
    In a strange sensation, he could feel the tendril wrap around her wrist. He could feel as gravity and her muscles feigned against the grip helplessly. And, welling up from deep within Patrick, was a kind of courage that renewed his strength. "Stop!" He demanded coldly, pouring himself into the sensation of the symbiote covering him. It responded, somewhat, by dropping the girl. "But we're -hungry-, Pats..." The voice seethed. He could sense it, too, as the voice pleaded. Suddenly the Italian Beef sandwich he ate for lunch wasn't nearly enough for them. But then, the symbioate had saved him. Surely. "We saved your body, now we get the girl!" It demanded again.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan was trying very hard to break away from the grip the tendril had on her. When she's dropped, she scrambles backwards over the broken glass and wood. Away from Patrick and whatever the hell that's going on with him. "Look, if you are hungry I can feed you!" she shouts at him.

Them.

Whatever the hell they were now. "No one is eating me!" she adds in a disgruntled tone. "And something tells me the cops aren't going to enjoy you eating anyone either!" she growls at him as she pulls herself up from the floor.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    "You see, Pats? She's all wrong for you. She's -dangerous-. Better to eliminate the danger now..." It said quietly. "Nobody's eating anyone!" Patrick demanded, lending his own voice to the discussion at hand. "We're leaving--Savior or no, you can't just go around eating people!" Patrick demanded to the crowd.
    But -why-?" It responded, before Patrick stomped a foot and willed the symbioate away. Into hiding. Back to just being a voice.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
A book goes flying and pegs Patrick right in the head, "I'm not dangerous. I have to throw things to even get close to dangerous!" she states in a heated tone. And yes, she just hit him with a book to prove her point. Oops!

"You don't eat people. Normal things don't eat people. You aren't a zombie. It's bad!" she shouts. She might be having a nervous breakdown at this point. She then takes a deep breath and looks back at the completely obliterated wall, "Insurance is going to love this..." she mutters.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    Patrick takes the book right in the side of his face, causing him to stumble slightly. That was all Toxin needed. The transformation wasn't immediate, but, that probably didn't matter when it came to eating a little girl. Thousands of tendrils seemingly unspool and swallow Patrick whole, weaving together until Toxin remained. Nearing seven feet tall, Toxin was bi-colored. His legs were as black as oil, glistening yet dry to the touch. It matched the massive claws that replaced Patrick's hands. Razor sharp and powerful enough to hoist tons by the dozen. His torso was a deep, scarlet red--The color of blood. But none of that compared to the massive, jagged and misshapen jaws that silenced the screaming Patrick. Wide, white eyes stare at Morrigan hungrily, before the massive claws overturn her couch to get it out of the way. Alone at last... Growls the monster, before it suddenly lurches forward. If not for Patrick, deep within, it might have caught her. Instead, Patrick sends them careening into the wall by the former-window.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"I should not have done that." Morrigan whispers as she turns to look at the monster that's replaced the police officer. That couch wasn't easy to move, so when the thing tips it over so easily that's when she starts to move. "I don't taste very good. Blood's not right..." she tells him as she looks to the monster.

When the monster goes careening into the wall though she takes her chance and bolts for her apartment door, managing to get it open, "Pleasedon'teatme. Pleasedon'teatme..." seems to be the new mantra for the Doctor as she rushes for the stairs.

Patrick Mulligan (298) has posed:
    Growling in anger, Toxin rises, watching as the girl goes to run. One of the black hands rise, and the being sends out a thick black tendril. It finds purchase on a building across the alley, and with a yank, Toxin is through the window and slinging away--Presumably under the will of Patrick Mulligan. The one that didn't want to eat anyone.