Owner	Pose
Rachel Roth	Unlike in the movies, cars don't really explode all that much. When they do, it rarely sounds like in the movies; it's more of rough exhalation than the rolling sound in the movies. Maybe you recognize that sound when you hear it, from your experiences as the Insect Queen, or maybe you just hear the screams of a panicked population around the block as people on foot are fleeing in your direction, most in panic, some with their cell phone cameras aimed over their shoulders. Everyone wants to be internet famous.     Raven is the cause of that explosion, though to be fair, she shares responsibility for that with the creature in front of her, a basically human-looking thing nine feet tall and almost nine feet wide with its bulging muscles. Its skin is weirdly, schizophrenically animalistic; its back is made of green scales, like a an alligator, while lion-like tufts of hair just from its elbows and shins. Its fingers are obscene claws the length of Bowie knives, but much thicker. Its teeth are childhood nightmares, sharp and long. If the creature has words, it's not using them; it just snarls at Raven as it attacks and attacks and attacks her. She's doing her best to stay airbound, and her flight is fast, but the thing after her is immensely powerful, climbing brick walls with its claws at disturbing speed and leaping across streets to try to get its claws on her. Raven keeps using her powers to seize objects and bash them into the beast with powerful results, but it always seems to just shrug them off and keep coming.     There is carnage in the street, at least three dead bodies torn open and partially eaten. The bodies are bloodless.
Insect Queen	Insect Queen, propelled by a large pair of insect-like wings, buzzes in from a side street, a side street which mild mannered Violet O'Mara, on the verge of tears, fled into not a minute earlier. But so many people fled so many ways that this particular connection is probably lost on everyone except the most astute narrators. The armored insectoid woman zips in with a mildly annoyed expression on her face. "What is all this ruckus about." She states, her question in so deadpan a tone it might sound more like a statement than an inquiry. At the same time, a telepathic inquiry carrying the same message is broadcast, on various frequencies, meant to attune to different kinds of animal specieses (hard to tell what /that/ thing is, so one has to try multiple possibilities). Right now, she is still flying at a distance, close enough to be within sight and hearing range of both Raven and the creature, but not close enough to be an immediate target. "The insect Queen demands to know-" Her powerful voice is cut off in mid-sentence. She sniffs the air. Her glance falls on the dead bodies. "Mmmm... corpse flesh." she mutters to herself, running the tip of her tongue on her lips. "... no. No", she says, quietly, closing her eyes and turning towards the creature again, touching her temples with one hand on each side, and waving her other two hands in front of her, palm pointing forwards, in a gesture of dismissal. "There is a time and a place to think about food. There are more urgent matters to attend to." A glance is turned towards Rachel. "Human. Do you know what is going on here, exactly?"
Rachel Roth	Raven spares the Insect Queen a glance, but only a glance. It's all she can do to stay out of this brute's way. She reaches out with her empathy to do a quick scan of the Insect Queen, finds nothing in her heart that would make her a foe, and then finds she can't spare the concentration to talk because the beast is leaping for her again and Raven barely has time to rip a concrete-encased trash can out of the sidewalk and fire it upward into the beast's belly, sending it flying with a blow that would have bisected most humans but that only buys her a few seconds; the thing is already twisting in the air with feline grace and reaching out to the pavement to skid to an early stop. "It's a blood beast," she explains tersely, her voice creaky. "It's the sum of all predators. It eats to gain power from blood. It's after me."
Rachel Roth	Sounds like magic, but then, Raven looks like a magician or cultist or something. Her pale face is half-covered in the beak-shaped shadow of her dark blue, hooded cloak. Beneath that she's wearing a matching garment that looks like the kind of pull-over robe you'd expect to see in a movie about Satanists, except the bottom half has been slit high and wide up each side to allow for maximum leg mobility; the cuts almost turn the robe's bottom half into a loincloth. She wears dark blue, thigh high boots with low, flat heels, and dark blue, mid-bicep gloves. The only bare skin on her below her face is on her shoulders and hips, where you can see the black diamonds of a fishnet mesh crisscrossing. So, cultist plus Zatanna Zatara fan, maybe? Heh.
Insect Queen	Insect Queen nods once at Rachel's words. "Understood." The telepathic readings she's getting are consistent with the description coming from the Magician. "Blood, you say?" she says, quirking an eyebrow. "Very well then." She eclaims. Her back body forwards, and she undergoes a change. She grows a... well, the technical term is 'proboscis', but it's what mosquitoes normally use to sting. Even her arms and legs elongate in an unsettling way, to resemble more and more those of the bloodsucking insect. Her wings change configuration to match, and she grows an elongated abdomen. There still is something vaguely human to her, but she's looking mostly like a six-foot-one mosquito now. She moves in a large arc, making sure tho avoid the jet of the torn off hydrant, veering around the creature, trying to kamikaze it from behind and stick her proboscis in his neck while the undead predator mish-mash is busy being distracted by Raven. Of course, if the need arises, she'll make sure to dodge any item thrown her way. "...well," she buzzes quietly to herself, "...looks like it /is/ the time and place to think about food, after all." She also anticipates how tasty the lunch is going to be: far, far better than the instant ramen which consitutes the staple of her diet when she's stuck as a human vermin, but, of course, she doesn't say that part out loud.
Rachel Roth	That ruptured fire hydrant is Raven's problem. The high-pressure torrent gushing up into the sky throws down a street-wide cloud of droplets that catch the daylight and splinter it into rainbow flashes that distort space and confuse the eye. That's why, as the beast gallops toward her on all fours like a gorilla, the chunk of concrete she's levitated with her power and hurls at the thing just misses. Her face is steely as she tries to conjure a shield, but it's too late and the beast is on her, its mass bearing her inescapably to the asphalt in a blow that knocks the breath from her. Its claws rake through her upper arm and the blood begins to flow not down, as gravity would have it, but the creature's arm in defiance of gravity, wrapping and winding toward its grinning mouth.     Beneath the beast's weight, Raven is warping.
Insect Queen	The spray of droplet is exactly what the Insect Queen is trying to avoid. It tends to make flight harder, if not downright impossible. But it should be possible to just fly above the spray, to avoid most of the sprinkling, and then dive down just behind the creature, which is exactly what the Insect Queen does. Granted, there is the snag of the beast charging, so she has to correct her pitch and fly more horizontally, for a longer time. That wold have still worked, if it was not for the chunk of concrete coming from goodness knows where, that came at her flying out of nowhere. She tried to veer sideways, but instead, she ended up being hit, and sent spinning. Due to a stroke of luck, (although it is uncertain whether it is the good or the bad kind), the beast moves in such a way that the spinning motion eventually causes her to impact against its back. The impact makes her recover from her dizziness, awakening her most basic instincts, and she abruptly sticks her proboscis right in the back of the neck of the monster, down his body, while her six arms wrap all around it. In a stroke of creativity, she seems to be growing silk glands all over her arms, secreting sticky threads meant to further constrain the predator.
Rachel Roth	At its size, from a place on its back, you'd have to have X-ray vision to actually see Raven. There's just too much meat between you and her. The beast is full of blood that's steaming but stagnant; it mixes with its own long-dead vitae to form something black and chunky. It bleed easily, though--apparently a blood beast's affinity for blood is a double-edged sword--and it roars in your grasp, twisting wildly at the hips to throw an elbow that never should have reached you (the thing is impossibly flexible) into your ribs, knocking you off. It's a good job you were restraining it, because without that tense silk one its arms, you'd have a cracked carapace and some broken ribs instead of a bruise.     But you might have bigger problems to worry about.     The Raven you met a minute ago was a pale, teenaged girl whose face is a bit odd--you could see the violet of her eyes despite the concealing shadow of her hood--but is basically normal. Now...now she is not. Her skin is red like a beet; her blue outfit has warped to a nearly black purple; and she now has four eyes, one set above the other, all of them featureless, glowing red. But the biggest difference is her demeanor. The Raven you met was grim but steely, and everything about her posture spoke to deep self-control. This thing is none of that. Her lips are parted in a vicious snarl, revealing sharp teeth; her posture is forward, aggressive, hateful; her arms and fingers are curled as if into claws; and her creaky voice is now multi-layered as if a dozen or more voices, some deep and some high, all profane, ask in unison with her, "You dare take the blood of Legion, little creature?!"     The thing that may or may not still be Raven reaches its arms out, and black anti-light flashes from her hands to seize the blood beast in a dark aura that lifts it up into the air in defiance of gravity, floating it. "You would take our blood?" Raven snarls again at it. "You take nothing from us! We shall have back what is ours, thief!"     Raven's hands fly apart, and so does the blood beast, split in half in a shower of gore. Much of the blood that flies out is red, but the black stuff forms an arcing river that courses through the air to surge into Raven's injured right arm.
Insect Queen	The Insect Queen seems to delight on the feast of blood. "A curious aftertaste. But I've eaten stranger food in obscure ethnic restaurants. And paid for it." That is when thew surprise hit takes place. Sent flying away, upon impact with the ground, the Insect Queen winces in pain, abruptly shifting back to her mostly humanoid-but-with-insect-features. "Accursed beast! How dare you dislodge the Insect Queen while she is feeding..." she snarls, wile small rivulets of the blood she drank from the insect, and whatever organ is just behind her mouth is still full off drip sligtly down the sides of her mouth. However, she eventually trails off at the sight of what the darker maybe-Raven does to the beast. Her eyes bulge at the sight, and then she gasps. "No... not... NOT NOW. IT IS NOT-" Her back arches backwards, and her arms shoot up to her neck. "Luckily, very few people are around by now, and the suspended droplets of water so conveniently provided by the torn up hydrant make it impossible for mere humans to see what is happening. The majestic figure of the regal insect-like humanoid in shining chitinous armor shrinks down to a not-so-impressive young woman with glasses and a sweater, while a choking noise comes from her throat. Eventually, she doubles over, and coughs out... well, looks like the Insect Queen's meal didn't shift back into something more fit for human consumption, so Violet ends up coughs up undead beast beast, and looking like she'll be doing so for a bit. Overall, she looks... well, not pleased with the experience She looks up, wide eyed, and then she realizes what has been going on: perhaps-Raven-perhaps-not is pretty much asking for her stolen blood back. She pales, then she chokes on the blood she was coughing, and she, with a panicked face, getting even paler, she raises a finger in the universal '...just a moment!' gesture, and forces herself to cough up blood harder and harder, terror and disgust fighting an epic battle between Evil and The Other Evil for supremacy on Violet's facial expression
Rachel Roth	Raven watches you vomit blood, and where any normal person would be showing fear or disgust or compassion, her face registers only anger. "And you, wretched mortal speck, do you too think to consume what is ours?" she/they ask as she/they stalk toward you through the spray, the water at least doing a lovely job of rinsing the gallons of steaming blood from the street and from Raven's cloak. Her hands are reaching toward you; it's all too easy to imagine that black aura seizing you next. "Only those who are worthy make take communion from the anti--ugh--"     The voices are fading. It's like a they're on a train, being taken away from you at immense speed, leaving only the terse, floorboard creak of voice you first heard when you met Raven. The multitude shrink down to one as the sentence goes on; Raven's muscles clench and tremble and force her arms to withdraw; color begins to fade from her skin and fill into her robes; her eyes squeeze shut and the higher set of eyelids being to melt and merge into her forehead.     There is only one voice as Raven commands through clenched teeth, eyes still screwed closed, "Shut...UP!" And when she straightens, she's back. Raven lifts a few inches off the ground and floats slowly toward you, pale and clad in blue again, to come to where you're sitting and put an arm around your doubtlessly terrified shoulders. "I'm sorry. That thing cursed me when it drank from me. It was trying to make me like it." Not strictly true, but close enough without a lot of exposition. Raven glances up and forms a black, circular shield above your head, an umbrella to protect you from the spray of water--no need for you to be drafted into any more of a wet T-shirt contest than circumstances have made this already--and she offers, "Let's get you out of here. Do you need to go somewhere?" Her voice is flat and emotionless, but the words are concerned, even somewhat generous.
Insect Queen	Violet splutters out the last droplets of blood that seem to come out. "...I... *cough cough* ...I'm sorry I drank your blood. I honestly didn't think it was yours. *cough* *splutter* "I-I normally don't drink blood, honest!" She hurries to explain, terrified. "First of all, I cannot afford it, second of all I- I- I-" She is clearly confused and delirious. "I didn't think it was your blood! I thought it was the other scary thing's!" She pales, "I mean... the /other/ thing, the scary one. Didn't mean to say you're scary." She says, clearly thinking the opposite. In the end, she makes a noise that sounds kind of like "Buuueeuuurghhh....", grimacing, and waggling her tongue. After some panicked breathing, when she finally seems to realize she's not in danger, and in less of a confused state, she finally allows her to shiver, soaked wet as she is already. "...I-...I-" she stutters, choking on each 'I'. "...anywhere warm and dry will do. And chocolate. Anywhere warm, dry, and with chocolate. I need hot chocolate. Nothing like hot chocolate to wash the taste of blood from your mouth." She sniffs, sneezes, and sniffs again. "I'm blowing next week's coffee budget on a it. It's an emergency." After that, she adds, "...not that I /know/ the best way to wash the taste of blood from your mouth. It's... uh... just a guess." She adds, blushing.
Rachel Roth	Raven is in a constant state of emotional control. Using her powers loosens that control; having one of her other selves pulled out of her rocks that control. Under normal circumstances, your babble would be coldly ignored as irrelevant, but now, as off her game as she is? Your sweetness is kind of adorable. It makes Raven feel almost matronly, despite her guilt at letting you see that side of her and how close she came to hurting you.     But that's gone days, and there's no point worrying about it. Even now Raven is quickly recovering her mental equilibrium. She helps you to your feet and guides you down an alley, shield of darkness still above you to cover your escape as she guides you through a few turns to where she'd guess we're safe from prying eyes. She observes your wet shiver and offers, "Here." Her cloak is held on by a large, smooth, oval gem that she unclasps; then she swings the garment around your shoulders and clasps it again. Without the hood, you can see her hair is short, straight, and clean (and black, of course), and that she has a small, red, pyramid-cut gem on her forehead. Her face remains impassive. "I'm going to have to change, but I think I can keep that on you until you feel warmer and more dry. Hang on." Raven takes a step back from you and closes her eyes, lips moving inaudibly. Her robe, gloves, and boots slowly melt into her skin (her fishnet body stocking does not) at the same time black jeans, black combat boots, a ripped black T-shirt with a bare midriff, and a studded black dog's collar appear in its place. The cloak wiggles and twists on your shoulders for a second, but does stay in place and eventually calms down; when Raven opens her eyes, it's behaving itself. She nods in satisfaction. "Good. So, chocolate. You pick where. I buy."
Rachel Roth	Uncovered by shadows, it's perhaps startling to notice that Raven is a teenager. You can see tight muscle definition in her arms and belly, the kind that suggest adulthood, but her face has the not-quite-finished-growing smoothness of youth. She's at least a few years younger than you are.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara is startled by the wriggling cloak, and holds her breath until the full change is done, trying to calm herself with the mantra, "...I've worn worse before laundry day. I've worn worst before laundry day...", but sounding rather unconvinced of /that/ sentence. When everything is said and done, and Raven offers to pay for the chocolate, her eyes dart downwards and sideways, and she starts chewing her lower lip. A conflict is going on in her soul. To splurge on her favourite place, even if it's usually something her meager finances allow only in very special occasions, or stick to the baseline 'I can afford it more often' chain, "Charlie's Cheaper-Than-Coffee Cafeteria"? As much as she'd love to go upmarket and splurge, she'd feel like a leech on poor Raven.? ...scratch that. It's an emergency, she reasons. Violet risked her life for Raven too, she deserves a treat! "...you pick. As long as they have chocolate." Violet says, finally, not mustering the courage to explicitly ask for the more upmarket "Benny's Marginally-Better-Than-Cheap Beans and Cocoa", a favourite of struggling artists with the occasional extra buck to squander and a reason to celebrate. She sneezes. "And maybe... we could go to my place while we're on the way, so I can pick something dry to wear..."
Rachel Roth	Raven examines you critically. She doesn't think her cloak looks all THAT strange on you, not in Metropolis, where dressing like a weirdo is to be expected...but, to each her own. You're probably cold anyway. "Alright," she agrees. "I don't know where you live, though, so lead the way."