Owner	Pose
Vanya	It's another cold, crisp night that marks the holiday season between Christmas and New Year's - the kind of weather that nips at ears and noses, and drives New York's visitors indoors. The muted, festive aftermath of the great American holiday lurches under a tide of shoppers wandering the streets to return or exchange gifts that weren't *quite* right, but in some parts of Harlem, there's a quieter, simpler cheer.     Sitting cozy on a high barstool at Luke's, a somewhat out-of-sorts woman is gazing boredly around at the half-empty room while waiting for her drink to arrive. Dressed not even warm enough for fall, the closest thing she has to winter wear are a pair of worn loafers - no socks - and torn-up pair of red pants. Thick, muscular arms are bared by her sleeveless grey shirt and her mildly square face is free of any scarf or mask. Despite the weather there's no color missing from her sun-baked skin - the sort of light olive that comes from fair white cooked by long hours out of doors.     A short curtain of unkempt, lush brown hair swings towards the room as the woman turns back to the bar when a glass is set before her - squat and a spiced brown color. She licks her lips before lifting it to sip through a straw.
Insect Queen	Life is funny sometimes. You walk back to a department store to return a sweater a couple sizes too small, thinking, easy peasy, but then an increasingly complex bureaucratic dance made of receipts, coupons, sister companies and promotional upgrades seaks up on you, and before you're able to understand what's going on exactly, you're sitting semi-inebriated at a bar in Harlem, your sweater having turned into a few free cocktails on the house. Violet is not normally the drinking type. She, however, normally is the trying things she does not normally do type, so she took this opportunity to think "why not?", and boost her life experiences, drawing skills, and blood alcohol level. There she sits now, sitting off into a corner; if her choice of place was an attempt to be inconspicuous, it is being negated by the huge sketching pad she's currently jotting down lamps on. She seems to have a strange fascination with lamps. In fact, she occasionally goes into a trance, leans closer and closer with her face, until her nose taps against them, at which point she snaps out of it and rubs her nose. "Ow. I... I think all that being an insect is catching up on me!", she mumbles, with a barely perceptible slur.
Vanya	Taking a leisurely taste of her drink, Vanya lets the spiced and creamy vodka mix coat her tongue and settle in her mouth before swallowing, drawing unhurried enjoyment of the holiday eggnog that's been added in place of cream. The white Russian sets down her white russian with a small sigh and smacks her lips as she turns and gazes back out at the bar. She's got no one to drink with so people watching it is. As her eyes land on the distant corner table with its artist and sketch pad, the overhead light catches on a purple bruise along the side of her chin and throws it into stark, eye-catching contrast against her skin.     The brawler raises a bushy brow at the college-looking youth focused intently at a lamp and grabs her drink as she turns to face her more fully, resting her elbow on the counter as she props one leg on her knee.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara, having finished a background rendition of the neon "LUKE'S" in the window (backwards, as it would be seen from her perspective), turns her head around for new subjects. The stark contrast of the bruise, along with the plastic pose of the muscularly-defined figure of Vanya, causes Violet to straighten up. Her smile widens and a triple chuckle of satisfaction escapes her mouth in a crecendo, unnoticed by her. Something like "ha-Ha-HA!" She raises her mechanical pencil, and with a flourish, she begins sketching loosely, large lines, working mostly with her elbow and shoulder to get large, flowing lines, more concerned with general flow than painstaking precision, which is as well because, to the trained eye, she already has the kind of flush and overall reaction times of someone who's just crossed the threshold from the 'perfectly sober' zone into the 'cheerfully giddy' antechamber of intoxication. Her pencil control looks still largely unaffected, though, a sign of it being sort of second nature to her.
Vanya	Vanya's ears prick at the chuckle and she gives a quiet smirk as she sips again from her drink and lets her attention wander idly around the bar. There's a football rerun on the television overhead and the brawler lets herself be distracted by the particularly American sport.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara , by now, has finished, along with another cocktail, a rather good sketch of Vanya, the perfect model for a study in muscles. After the full figure study, she's now working on a better close-up of her face. "Wait a minute!", she exclaims in the middle of reproducing her features. "Are... aren't you the one from that robbery? And... that bar brawl?", she suddenly asks, her hint of a slur, while still not impeding her speech at all, having gotten just slightly more pronounced. "The one with the cat martial artist dude? There was a snake lady... Sibil, she was called..."
Vanya	If Violet wanted a close-up, this is one way to get it. Vanya's attention jumps back to the artist, along with a few startled patrons in between them, and the lazing Russian rocks herself onto her feet. Padding over with the lazy, straight-backed gait of supreme calm and a quiet cockiness, the brown-haired predator stops as she casts a shadow over the artist's corner table and studies her with quiet intensity through orange-tinted lenses.     Recognition dawns on the brawler's face and her lips split in a toothy smile. "Oh yes, Zhao and Sibil. You watched me play here before," she chuckles, setting a hand on her hip and turning her head just slightly. "Did you get my good side?" Vanya asks slyly, her eyes flitting to the sketchpad.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara's usual shyness seems to be soluble in alcohol, going by the circumstatial evidence. "I think I did! This side is quite good, isn't it?", she says, turning the pad and extending it towards Vanya, and so engrossed in her talk to miss the waitress that walks by, takes her empty glass, and places the next gift cocktail (a "Santa's Suit" -- a special for the Holidays, in layers of red and white) next to her. "Bruises make everything better," continues Violet. "Based on what I saw of you last time, I'm feeling sorry for whoever or whatever caused it. I wouldn't want to be in its place." Her eyes dart towards her cocktail glass. It was empty one moment ago, and now it's full! "It's really a festive miracle!", she sing-songs. "Thank you, Santa Claus!" She extends the glass towards Vanya with a smile. "This is the true meaning of Christmas Spirit! I think. Or, I think I think. Alcohol makes it hard to think straight," she says, and starts sipping her drink.
Vanya	"Za zdarovje," Vanya replies with a smirk as she clinks her drink against Violet's before taking a drink with her. Once she finishes, her glass finds the table with a stiff *clack!* and the brawler leans forward to study the sketchpad. "I had a fun night yesterday... how many drinks have you had, two?" the Russian teases lightly.
Insect Queen	"Za zdarovje", attempts to repeat Violet, to the best of her abilities. She's clearly not a native Russian speaker. She sips a bit of her cocktail, but she has to put it down long before finishing it. Lightweight. "Yes!", exclaims Violet. "Two and one fourth with this one!" She leans over. "What happened yesterday?"
Vanya	Vanya leans back slightly and winces an eye at Violet's exuberance. As the hair on one side parts, her ear is revealed to be just slightly pointed. "Just a little exercise at a dojo. I met a man with a surprising punch," she chuckles, eyeing the young woman and then her sketchpad again.     "You know..." the brawler muses with a toothy smirk. "It is rude to draw people without their permission, no?"
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara puts down the drink after chugging down another quarter. She has to punch her chest as she coughs, but it doesn't seem to have any lasting effect. "Not if they don't notice!", she says, her slur now being, if not evident, at least noticeable. "And I'm being very, very careful about you not noticing." She looks left and right, and leans over. "By the way. Shhhhhhh. Don't tell yourself I drew you."
Vanya	Vanya laughs at the notion and sets her index finger on the lip of the artist's glass to stop it from raising again. "Maybe I will," the brawler considers with a sly smirk. "Pay me to keep a secret?"
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara frowns at the glass-block, and looks up at Vanya. It takes her a few second of frowning to process the suggestion, at which point she puts down her glass and crosses her arms, scrunching her mouth in concentration. "Money versus possibly spilled blood? Hm." After a few seconds of reflection (if reflection it is -- at one point her head falls on her chest, as if she fell asleep--she starightens with a startle after that), she finally declares, "I think I'll have to pass. Blood, I have five liters. Money... nowhere as much at the moment." She says this very matter-of-factly, not with fear or embarrassment or anything.
Vanya	Vanya sets her free hand against the chair opposite Violet and leans against it as she waits patiently for her alcohol-soaked neurons to fire, quietly amused by the lighter woman's lack of tolerance. Ever restless though, the predator's eyes wander, tracing the artist's outfit for anything interesting before returning to the sketchpad.     When she finally gets her answer, Vanya huffs in disappointment. "Too bad... and I thought you could maybe use a model too," she bemoans in long, slow speech - it's not her first time speaking tipsy.     "You know..." she notes, releasing Violet's glass to tap the center of her own sketched body. "If I *did* find out you draw me... for money you could draw me again. You do need a model for practice, no?"
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara thinks some more. "I do need a model for practice, yes, but I need the money more than I need a model. Cheap Instant-Ramen-Flavored Imitation Instant-Ramen doesn't pay by itself, you know? I have lunches and rent to pay for, first, and nowadays most of my work is in the web design area anyway." She whips out her fancy phone (because no matter how starving you are nowadays, a fancy phone is a necessity -- especially if you work in the field) and adds, "Nowadays I think I'm doing more photos and photo-manipulation than actual painting anyway. It's how the future is. Paperless office and pencilless art studio."
Vanya	Vanya raises an eyebrow at the slim device and lifts her drink for a final sip that leaves her straw loudly gurgling creamy remnants. The brawler scoffs lightly. "So you're dirt poor with fancy toys. And people pay you for pictures you make with that little thing?" she asks, inclining her empty glass towards the smartphone.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara says, "These little things are getting amazing, you'd be surprised. With all the enhancement softawre available nowadays, it's getting harder and harder to tell a properly used smartphone camera from a professional reflex. I'm willing to bet you've never noticed that some low-cost publications are done entierely with smartphones? For instance..." She turns her camera to her half-drunk glass of Santa-themed cocktail, taps on an app icon, fiddles a bit with the controls, and, snap. The click-whirr sound of the phone notifies that a photo has been taken. Some cropping and color-balancing later (performed at lightning-fast pace, even when under the influence of alcohol), Violet turns the screen to Vanya. The picture does look like a professional studio photo-shoot for an ad campaign. "I'm going to name this work of art... 'The Glass is Half Full'." She frowns a little. "Still better than 'Beheaded Santa', I think."
Vanya	Vanya sets her own glass down and leans over her chair as she watches Violet work. "Not really... I never watched much television," the Russian notes before turning a curious eye to the finished product. The brawler's eyes blink a couple times behind her glasses before she smirks in amusement and reaches over to ruffle Violet's hair. "Not bad. Maybe call it 'Your Limit', but you maybe half the rest of the glass in you."
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara shrinks in her shoulders, but otherwise just laughs at the ruffling. She's in a good mood, thanks to the drinks she had, apparently. "We are what we eat", she philosophises, raising her glass and sloshing her drink. Unless Vanya interferes, she'll go for chugging down another quarter of it. "I suppose I am half a cocktail then. That asks some deep philosophical questions, doesn't it?" An then, further emboldened by the extra alcohol in case she manages to actually drink it, she'll turns her smartphone towards Vanya with an amused chuckle. "Say cheeeeeeese...."
Vanya	Vanya smirks *widely* at the artist's choice of words and sets her finger against the back of the glass to keep it raised to Violet's mouth. "Khorosho skazano," she praises. "You said good - that deserves the rest."
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara's eyes POP open, and they look at Vanya in panic, while her other hand waves in a signal to stop. But that's the full amount of her effort. That, and moaning and making faces and..." When the last drop of the cocktail is down, Violet starts coughing. Most of the drink may have been swallowed and be on its way to make the artist's train of thought a psychedelic ride, but a few drops still linger in her mouth, and the outcome may not be pretty. Despite gasping for air among the upcoming coughing, she seems unable to restrain her laughter at this point.
Vanya	Vanya laughs with her and reaches over to give the artist a firm slap on the back to help clear her lungs, regardless of what little mist might spray her in the process. "That's better, now you're made of three full cocktails." Reaching back towards the bar, the brawler gestures for more for herself before returning her attention to Violet with a playful smile. Still bent over her chair rather than sitting in it, the brawny Russian casts a long shadow overhead. "What else are you made of?"
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara does clear her lungs with some coughing, and once she's done, with her head bobbing left and right, she answers, "Cheapimation Inshtamen Ram... Imishten Cheapem..." Violet closes her eyes tight and shakes her head. "...Fake Ramen," she finally says. "Just add 80% water. And 10% of the brain, that's what we use mosht of the time. Did you know that? I read it... once. Shomewhere. It'll come to me, eventually." Random bursting into laughter follows, until she steadies again. "Now, there... there wash a very important thing I wash shupposhed to do... YUSH." She places the empty glass, which had been held up in the air up to now, back down on the table. Dramatically, as if it was some high-brow ceremony. "There." And then she turns to look at Vanya, with the gravest, most somber of faces. And then bursts into a fit of laughter again.
Vanya	The Russian covers a heavy snicker at the young woman's behavior and shakes her head while muttering in Russian. "Ah... maybe we passed your limit. You're turning red," she teases while giving Violet a light poke to the forehead.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara wails, "But I want moooooooooooore.....", and protectively reaches for the glass. "Do not listen to the bad lady, Glassfido. Your Violet loves you." She lifts it to eye level, held horizontal (which is okay, it's empty) and starts tickling the bottom rim. "Who's a good boy? Huh? Who is? You are! Youuuuuu are!" More laughter.
Vanya	"Later, later," Vanya admonishes with a chuckle. "Good drinking is pacing - and we need snacks."     Straightening up from her chair, the Russian turns back to the bar and temporarily leaves the tipsy artist to her own devices.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara, whose head is teetering unstably, carefully manages to place the glass back onto the table, after a few false starts. "You sit here and be a good boy, Glassfido", she says, wiggling her finger in admonishment, "while mommy goes to get some schnacks." She places her hands on the table and the chair, and attempts to pull herself to stand. "Schnaaaaaaaacks... here I come!"
Vanya	Vanya glances back and chuckles as she shakes her head before turning back to the bar and adding to her tab - she's letting the tipsy artist sink or swim. From their secluded corner booth, it looks like a looong walk strewn with tables and chairs.
Insect Queen	Tap. Tap. Tap. And lamps. Tap. A long walk strewn with tables, chairs, and /lamps/. Tap. Violet keeps spiraling around a specific floor lamp, closer and closer, until she taps her nose against it, recoiling as a result, shaking her head, and the, once she re-opens her eyes, doing the same circular dance over and over again.
Vanya	Vanya looks back again at the peculiar noise and eyes the young woman like she's grown a second head. The brawler laughs to herself as she gathers an armload of chips, dips, and nuts, along with a pair of clear bottles. Navigating the maze with sober ease, the werewoman pauses as she passes the artist and pokes her calf with a foot. "Looking for the secret of eternal youth in there?"
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara turns to look at the source of the calf-poking, finally breaking eye contact with the tantalizing light source and facing Vanya. "...what?", she asks. "I... I honestly can't remember what I was doing. I jusht remember it was beautiful...", she says, and lets out a dreamy sigh.
Vanya	The werewoman lifts her armloads of food and drink against her chest to emphasize them. "The real party is right here. Back to your seat or I'll eat and drink your half," she jests, twisting her hips this time to whip the side of her foot against the artist's rump.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara lands uncerimoniously on her chair, with a oof, and takes some time to steady herself, operation complicated by her having to also take care of her eyeglasses in the middle of it. "Fooooood. I like food. It makes a party a paaaaaaaaaaaarty!"
Vanya	"It does, it does," Vanya agrees emphatically as she dumps her armloads onto the table between them; three kinds of dip, two kinds of nuts, and a hearty supply of chips - along with two towering vodka bottles. "My country has a saying: beer without vodka is money wasted," the Russian grins as she sets down a pair of shot glasses and pours drinks. "My bottle," she says of the one closest to her, "and your bottle," she says of the furthest once a hearty splash of vodka is before both of them. "Za zdarovje," the party animal repeats as she raises her shot to Violet.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara says, "My first bottle of Vodka!", exclaims Violet, hugging and cuddling the present. "Thank you, Vanya! I've never had straight vodka before, I'll aaaaaaaalways be grateful to you for this wondroush present!" That said, she raises the glass, and repeats a passable approximation of "Za zdarovje", ready to chug it down as soon as she sees Vanya do likewise.
Vanya	The Russian downs her own shot with relish and sets it down with a cheerful clink. "We'll make you a real woman yet," she chuckles. Violet might notice her own drink is a little light on burn - but then again the already tipsy artist might not.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara gives Vanya a glare. "I already /am/ a real woman! What do you think I am? Some imaginary character on an online game?!", she protests, then chugs down. She braces for the upcoming burn... ...and then slams the glass down on the table with a loud clunk. "MWHAHAHAHA", she cackles her cheeks already red with what she'd had up to now. "I am invulrenab.. inlubrenav... invulnerarl..." She clicks her tongue. "I am immune to alcohol! I didn't even feel that!". She exclaims, "FOOLISH MAMMALS, YOU CANNOT STOP ME! NOTHING CAN STOP THE QUEEN OF-" She catches herself with a hiccup. "...I have no idea of where I pick this stuff up." She says, with a frown, and eagerly pours herself another glass.
Vanya	"Oy if you have something about other mammals, I can play anytime," Vanya retorts as she leans forward in her chair and flexes her bicep - until Violet goes for another drink. Her other hand leaps out to grab the back of the bottle to help the tipsy artist with a steady pour. "Pacing, Vychurnyy, drink then food," she admonishes, though not so heavily as to really stop the young woman. Watching her color rise is too much fun.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara stops pouring. "Pacing! Right!" She puts down the bottle and grabs for a few peanuts. "You know, I've never had peanuts /whole/. I'm sure it's an excellent idea." She says, and pops a couple into her mouth, shell and all. The expression that follows makes it pretty obvious that she is now regretting the feat. "It is delicious. Once again, I wash right," she lies, as straight faced as she manages to. "Let me pour you some Vodka to celebrate!", she says, and moves to pour some of her water into Vanya's glass.
Vanya	Vanya smirks and helps herself to a few chips as Violet pours. "We should have pickles and meat but this will do," she laments of the spread between them. "What kind of bugs do you like?" she asks out of the blue.
Insect Queen	Thud. Crinkle. A muted scratchy hiss, barely audible, comes... hard to tell. It's like a faint vibration, encompassing the whole floor. Violet is taken aback. "Wha- what ish that about bugsh?", she asks, suddenly getting all defensive and even scooting away a bit, crossing her arms on her chest, to secretly protect her amulet hidden beneath her sweater. "I know nothing about bugsh. Why should I know anything about bugsh? It's not shomething I would be intereshted in for any reason." She coughs, and after she got some time to quiet a bit, she adds, "...that shaid, it variesh a lot. Right now I have a particular fashination with the /Amegilla Cingulata/, or blue-banded bee. Its appearance is quite striking, if you ask me, although the /Chrysiridia ripheus/, or Madagascan sunset moth, is gaining ranksh in my personal list...", she starts rattling out, relaxing more and more as she goes. A bag ish opened--I mean, is opened--and chips are crunched while this speech goes on.
Vanya	Vanya cocks her head and perks her ears as her eyes flit to the rest of the room. The vibration isn't unnoticed but the weretiger's sharp senses aren't quite enough to pinpoint the echo's source. It takes a few seconds for the predator to give up her search and grants Violet an equal time to sputter unnoticed. When she does return, Vanya diverts for a handful of peanuts first, crunching down on them shell and all before reaching for a chip and smearing it with a thick topping of spinach dip. "What about arthropods?" she goads.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara begins, "Arthropodsh are quite an intereschting phylum, if you aschk me. Not only they include inschects and arachnida, but also, not that many people would guessh it, cruschtaceans, and the sadly much neglected myriapodsh. Having so many legs..." She makes a face, half confused half disgusted. "Might feel right at the moment, but it's a dang /weird/ memory to have, if you ask me." She then turns to Vanya, and adds, "...not that I know from direct ekshperience, of course. It's jusht... you know, schtuff you hear from friends." She chugs down her previously poured glass of water, and even if not necessary, she exhales. And blushes red, somehow. Auto-suggestion? "...I have plenty of mutant friendsh."
Vanya	Vanya listens with an easy, lopsided smile and pours Violet another glass of "vodka". "Being human is overrated," the werewoman muses as she munches on a chip. "And what about scorpions? Six legs, armor, and a enough sting to scare a grown man. My favorite is maybe the Arizona bark scorpion, but they're hard to find..."
Insect Queen	It gets stronger. More precise. The vibration slowly focuses from being hard to pinpoint to being more and more precise. It narrows down to the general area where Vanya and Violet are... and it becomes clearer and clearer that it isn't the whole floor, but it's something /below/ the floor, moving upwards. The distance would cause micro-shock-waves propagating through the ground to spread, but as whatever-it-is comes closer, it becomes obvious it's something below the ground, digging its way up. "I don't know. Perhaps. Maybe," muses Violet, her eyes cast down into the drink she's nursing. "It'd sure be cool to be more than human. But... there'sh plenty of tricky moral isshues attached." She grabs more peanuts and chews on them, STILL sticking to her story that it's best to eat them with the shell. "I've very clear memories of them. They're..." There goes the confused face again. "Again, loved them at the time, but I fear my memories may be biased by... circumstances at the time. But if you want...", she says, swallowing everything, "I have a... friend... well, vague acquaintance. Very intimate acquaintance. We're always together, but refuse to speak to each other. Bosom nemeses. It'sh complicated." She says, shaking her head and her hand as for ending the line of discussion and clearing her bepretzeled mind. "Point ish...", she says, leaning over and extending the index finger of her glass-holding hand, while her eyes squint and her head bobs looking for equilibrium, "...she, unlike me, ish very good with arthropodsh. I'm shure she could arrange for-" Floor tiles clang upwards, two human-arm-sized twitching segmented legs feel around, followed by the body of a compact, almost semi-spherical beetle the size of a German shepherd, which pulls itself out of the ground. Violet looks down at it. The oversized beetle twitches its antennas at Violet. Violet sighs. "Bad, bad Mr.Fluffumsh," she scolds. "What did I tell you? Shtay put. Shtay put in the houshe!" The bug raises its hind legs, and lowers the front legs. Antennas droop slightly. Vanya's ability to read animal behaviour will find a mixture of dog addressing an owner and a hive insect (more like 'bee' than 'roach') addressing... well, if not /exactly/ a queen, something as close as it as possible. Definitely above anything that is not a queen. Violet turns to Vanya again. "It's... Vanya, please meet Mr.Fluffumsh. It's... uh... a very weird mutt. Got it at the kennel. Not shure what race it ish." She chugs down another glass of Cheap not-Vodka-flavoured Imitation-Vodka. And exhales noisily. Blush. Mr.Fluffums rotates on its six legs, and wags its.. well, it has no tail, so wags its bottom at Vanya. And chitters. "...he likesh you. Don't worry, he just wantsh to play..."
Vanya	Vanya's brow furrows as the vibration gets louder and she slips out of her loafers to press her bare feet into the floor and get a better sense for the noise while half-listening to Violet. "An intimate friend? I didn't think you were that kind of girl," the weretiger chuckles as she looks over the artist anew, as if expecting to find some bright and obvious sign she missed before. The brawler shrugs and goes for her drink. "I guess I don't need to find you a man tonight... crazy country, all full of--" *CRACK!* "Kakogo cherta, now that is a bug!" Vanya barks in surprise. Rather than terror or disgust, the brawler's gut reaction is a worryingly excited smile that shows slightly too-pointed canines. "This is your pet!?" Leaning forward in her chair, the weretiger lowers her head in front of Mr. Fluffum's to sniff the gigantic insect while lifting a hand to brush his antenna - offering her scent in exchange. Unlike a moment ago, the back of her palm is sheathed in a pale yellow carapace and the inside is segmented in a way that's truly inhuman. Mr. Fluffum might not be the only arthropod in the room anymore. "He's adorable," Vanya snickers at the animated abdomen-wiggle.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara frowns at Vanya. "What? No, no..." she says, shaking her head. "I'm not that kind of girl, if that kind of girl is the kind of girl I think you think I am! I mean, the that kind that needs no men.", she hurries to add, in a more 'matter of fact-ly' way rather than scared or embarrassed. "And it's an intimate /acquaintance/, not /friend/. We don't speak to each other." And then, she abruptly holds her head in her hands. Her eyes open wide, and she gapes. "I... I can see it..." she almost-whispers. Mr.Fluffums runs its feelers on Vanya's hand, and somehow, Violet does likewise. Each movement of the insect's head, be it soft or jerky, is mirrored exactly by Violet's head. "Friend...", she mutters, in the same barely audible trance-like voice. "Weird... shell-less... mammal... friend..." And when the big bug makes a leap for 'licking' Vanya's face (actually running its mouthparts on it); Violet snaps out of it, and holds her head, dizzy. She tilts her bottle of vodka full of water, slightly, and glances down at it. She lets it fall upright again, and while it clatters, she stares straight ahead of herself. "I should schtop drinking this schtuff..."
Vanya	Vanya's arms go up to catch the jumping insect and support it in her lap. "Oof! Easy, Chekhov," the werewoman laughs, knocking on the beetle's armored side as their mandibles click against each other in an exchange never meant by nature. Her carapace hand is already back to its normal hide of skin but the change seems to have moved somewhere else; the face that's buried in Mr. Fluffum's receptors and the tongue that darts out in vodka-fueled curiosity for a taste of bug have both developed a yellow pallor and a similarly not-quite-human flavor.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara raises one finger. "Er... careful, Vanya. I..." She hesitates. "...I'm honestly not sure if Mr.Fluffums has had his shots..." She turns to look off to a side, and mutters to herself. "...how does one even /give/ a bug shots?..." And then she turns to Vanya again, "...and when I say 'shots', I mean vaccinations, not liquor!" She then squints again. "Waaaait a minute... what's going out there?"
Vanya	"I'll...*pffth!*...be fine," Vanya insists around the bug on her. The werewoman's face softens back to human flesh under the cover of Mr. Fluffums as the transformation proves brief. After a few more seconds of vigorous greeting, the brawler leans back and pushes the insect away. "Your pet is being very friendly," she answers as if she were merely holding an excited border collie.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara says, "I think it's housebroken, too...", rubbing her chin in confusion. And then her eyes light up. "...would you accept that ash payment for... I'm not shure what you wanted to be paid for, earlier, but I do remember you were ashking for money? I have thish beauuuuuuuuutiful schpeshimen of..." She pulls her head back, and looks at the bug with a puzzled expression. "...whatever-it-ish. Purebreed mutt. A bargain. It can be yoursh for... uh... you know. That thing you offered earlier." She pauses for a moment. "...collar not included." Her head hurts at the thought of where to find a collar for /that/.
Vanya	Vanya lets out a barking laugh as she looks around the giant beetle. "You're selling me your pet? No, he's cute but beetles aren't my style - we would make a mess," she considers, eyeing the insect fondly and giving its carapace another pat.     "And you were looking for a model," the werewoman supplies as she tries to reach around for more peanuts.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara squints at Vanya, and replies, "Not right now, no, but it doesh occashionally come up. Eschpecially for photographs. Drawing, one can somehow manage with photographs or mirrors, with imagination fillin' in. But with photosh? Eh, not ash easy..." She looks down, extends one hand towards Mr.Fuzzums, hesitates a moment, and finally decides she's probably had enough alcohol to be bold, and pats her bug, who wiggles his feelers, contented, and runs its front legs over his mouth parts. "Thish thing is /freaky/," she says.
Vanya	"It looks normal for a twenty kilo ladybug," Vanya reminds mirthfully. "We're the freaks; we have bare skin and opposable thumbs. Name one other animal with that," the werewoman retorts, wiggling the first finger on her free hand.
Insect Queen	Violet O'Mara raises her index finger as if for protesting, then shoves some chips in her mouth, and leans over to Vanya. Closer. And closer. And closer, so much she has to prop her up with her hands on the table. Given her inhebriated state, she slips once, with accompanying clatter of wood and glasses, but manages to regain her hold soon enough. And resume her squinting. Once she's violated Vanya's personal space the way only drunk people can do, so much Vanya can now perform a real-time chemical analysis of her breath (and she might find the alcohol content just satisfactory), Violet finally says, "...you sound like that acquaintance of mine I'm not really talking to."
Vanya	Personal space? Vanya? The werewoman's breathing slows and stills as Violet draws close and her glasses slip down the bridge of her nose to expose an intense pair of inhumanly bronzed eyes that stare piercingly through the artist's inebriated gaze. Her lips curl to expose a hint of her canines again as the sheer proximity sets the beast's hackles on edge - excited at a chance for more than just words. "The intimate one? Is that a bad thing?" the vodkaed up brawler purrs from the back of her throat as she touches her forehead to Violet's.
Insect Queen	It seems like someone else has had their deepest, most repressed instincts triggered. A glow comes from Violet's chest, just below her sweater. It's the versicolor iridescence of scarabs, illuminated from within by a swarming light, as if of fireflies. A distant droning sound of wings comes from it, then crescendoes, until, at least at this short distance, it becomes deafening, and then is silenced abruptly, as if a million bees got plastered and vomited whiskey-flavoured honey together. And then it starts again, like a cacophonic police siren of buzzing. Violet's eyes turn segmented behind her human eye-sockets, and while two antennas raise from her head, a pair of small mandibles pull the corners of her mouth open, to reveal something horrifyingly non-human beneath. "Are /you/ challenging me?", she chitters, more than says, with the territorial pride of a hive of bees who see a bear approaching too close.
Vanya	Vanya awaits the rising sound with bated breath - clearly she's triggered *something*. As insectoid features escape from Violet's human vessel, the predator's eyes narrow with feral joy. The queen's antennas sprout between the lush strands of the werewoman's loose brown hair, and the mammal bows her head a little deeper, pressing back in a playful show of force as the wells of her eyes darken and stretch into a shape that's more angular, more feral than naturally human. "You started it, Zhukya," the beast growls from low in her throat.
Insect Queen	"Are you calling me a Zhukya?", most-likely-no-longer-Violet chitter-growls, human eyelids narrowing around the insectoid segmented eyes. "I have no idea whatsoever of what that means, but it does not sound nice. Either explain or apologise." The side of her mouth twists into a menacing growl. "Even though I have this feeling both will be in order." At the same time, under the tense breathing, Violet's body appears to slowly grow from her not-really-impressive base form into a more massive, more muscular form. It's a very subtle thing, very slow, but it's happening. Eyes shut for a moment, and when they re-open, they are human again, terrified, while the rest of the body remains insectoid. "No, wait... wait... no..." wails what is recognisably Violet's voice, but distorted by the non-human voice apparatus. "don't... don't... agghhhhh....." But then eyes are shut again, in a grimace, and the Violet-esque voice transitions into an inhuman, deeper groan, compounded by a release of pheromones which, in insect language, are meant to clearly state who the dominant female is. "Shut up, vermin self!", chitters the non-Violet voice from earlier once it's fully back, in a clipped, annoyed tone, in a moment in which her head is briefly turned downwards. That's clearly more meant to herself than anyone else, and then she returns to face Vanya. Firm. Unrelenting.
Vanya	Vanya leans back and cocks her head as she watches the subtle changes from bug to human and back again. The werewoman's eyes flit to the edge of Violet's jaw, the lobes of her ears, her nose, seeing more than they should as the artist's body undergoes its metamorphosis. She smiles easily and tops off both shot glasses with her bottle. "I thought you were some kind of were-bug, but you're two different people?" Vanya asks as she nudges Violet's half-vodka drink forward. "Why so rough with her?" "And 'zhuk' means 'bug'," the Russian adds.
Insect Queen	"Oh, a compliment then," states what has by now grown even further into the Insect Queen's form. "That is acceptable." At this point, Vanya may have noticed that the new form seems to hold her alcohol somewhat better than Violet -- she's still not completely sober, but she seems to have sobered up a bit. Probably due to the increase in body mass. She studies Vanya a little longer, then she states, "We are two people as much as your sober self and your intoxicated self are two people," as she picks up the glass, never breaking eye contact. "Except your organism doesn't normally re-adjust into a more noble form completely when you are sober." She chugs down the glass, and slams it on the table with a clunk. "...and unlike us two, you seem to agree on who's the proper sober self and who's the despicable drunk self." The last glass triggers an almost abrupt growth into the seven-feet-tall, red-headed, massively muscular yet wasp-waisted form of the chitinous-armor clad, four-armed, winged Insect Queen, her face back to looking more humanoid-mammalian look (i.e., no longer having segmented eyes or visible weird mouth-pieces -- antennas are still there, though). "...aaaah, finally." She smirks as she lifts the bottle with her top-right arm and takes a good look at it. "Little cylindrical cells of fermented nectar. I have to give it to you, mammals, this is a clever invention. They really bring out the best in me." She thinks for a moment, running whatever counts as her tongue at the moment around the inside of her mouth. "or... fermented nectar-like substance, I should say." A surprisingly long and thin protrusion emerges from her lips, and reaches all the way inside the glass, wiping it clean. When it is retracted, she continues, "More like... fermented /grain/ it seems. Wheat, possibly."
Vanya	Vanya's smile widens and her own tongue brushes her lips hungrily as she finds herself looking up at the suddenly enlarged young woman. Despite everyone else in the bar, the werewoman takes this as a good thing. "I haven't done anything drunk I wouldn't do sober," she notes with some amusement, giving Insect Queen a refill as easily as she was serving Violet before her. "If I knew you were a wasp we could have had medovukha - honey drink."
Insect Queen	Insect Queen , chin held up, simply states, "I can be any insect you care to mention, really." She chugs down more of the drink. "Despite having a most interesting flavour, it seems to also work an interesting effect on my metabolism. Fascinating," she says, turning the glass in her bottom-right hand, the top-left one still holding onto the bottle. Meanwhile, the Insect Queen's telepathy extends all around, touching every animal lifeform in the vicinity. It's something it will attune to insects perfectly, but other animals might get a feel for it as well (the closer they are to insects, the more likely they will feel it). At the moment it holds no commands or anything, it's just sorts of a recognition wave, an 'is anyone there' sort of ping. Get a feel of what insect/animal minds are in the area.
Vanya	Fluffum's mind pings obediently to his queen no doubt, and the other occupants of the bar ring true - humans all of them. Vanya chuckles as she knocks back her own drink and reaches for snacks. Her own mind pings *nearly* human - the brawler's intellect is in no way diminished but there's a more primal touch to it. She's a woman well attuned to her wild side.     "You don't get out often do you? Drink more; you'll like the effect."
Insect Queen	"Not as often as I would like to, no. But I have a feeling that this is going to change soon. Very soon," she says, with a worrying grin, as she chgs down the drink again. She definitely sems to hold her drink far better than Violet, but, again, it might be due to her increased body mass. "Believe me, I am liking the effect already." She grins mischievously in Vanya's direction. "I will find a way to reward you for your gift."
Vanya	Vanya's ready with more and tops off the insect's glass as soon as she sets it back down. Pausing to eye the remainder of the bottle, she shakes it and hums thoughtfully. "Would you like to play a game while we drink?" the brawler asks with a mischievous smirk.
Insect Queen	It had started with the large bug emerging from the ground. People had started whipping out their cell phones and filming. NYC may be weird and all, but you don't see dogbugs every day! And the moment Violet fully transformed, all phones in the bar were out, all phones in the bar were filming the same thing, and it would become a trending sensation the next day, going viral. And how could it not be? Insects cut straight into ur primal reactions, and when a video of something never seen before, something shocking, something which blur the line between species until it disappears is available, it's only natural that it will ride on the collective curiosity. Almost everyone who isn't living under a rock will have watched the video titled "Dogbug Startled by Cucumber" Luckily, everyone filming that deflected attention away from IQ's sudden transformation. Well, okay, at least /one/ phone was filming in the spot: Violet's fancy phone, still propped against a napkin dispenser, is carefully documenting these moment, thanks to the new AI-powered APP 'Snapshot Moments', which keeps filming and automatically decides, based on changes in movement patterns, contrast, and relative weight of pictures, when it's the moment to save a photo or a short movie clip. "A game, huh? I normally have no interest in such foolish human past-times, preferring more productive endeavours, but... a reward I have promised, and a reward you might get. You may proceed with your explanation."
Vanya	"If you want we can play a less human game but you might enjoy that less," Vanya chuckles as her eyes traces the insect queen's inhuman physique on their way down to the glasses between them. The werewoman raises her own. "We ask questions to each other; for each question we take one drink."
Insect Queen	Insect Queen quirks an eyebrow. "It sounds like a rather convoluted way to drink and/or ask questions. But I will graciously condescend."
Vanya	Vanya shorts and knocks back her drink. "Forget the game then; drink and talk. What are you? You don't smell like an earth bug."
Insect Queen	Insect Queen chugs down another glass, as if it was nothing. "Short story. I am a genetically improved version of the vermin you know as Violet. Vastly superior in every single aspect, physical and intellectual. As you said earlier, humanity is overrated. I am a proof of the benevolent gift a generous race from beyond the stars has sent to this planet: being reshaped into their image, lifted from the mud-crawling vermin shape you currently possess to heights inconceivable by them." She pours herself a glass from the water bottle. "But no, my unlifted form, in her limited, childish, nonsensical thought process, has decided this shall not be carried through, and with dishonourable acts of blackmail, she hinders my righteous processing of this world." She apparently gets talkative when properly lubricated with Vodka. "The nerve!", she exclaims, and take the glass of water close to her mouth...
Vanya	"Save that one," Vanya interjects, sliding her bottle forward. "We'll use mine."     "That's funny," the predator muses as she leans back in her chair, smirking at the queen's visage. "Did you know creatures like you are the bottom of the food chain here? Humans aren't much higher; their only strengths are intelligence and fine control for using tools." Vanya lifts a hand with calloused knuckles, wiggling her fingers, and then points to an open space beside the table. "Stand and turn around for me, da? I want to see all this 'glory' you think so high of."
Insect Queen	Insect Queen replies, "Your plantet's bioligy is messed up like that, yes. Just let me work some changes, set things straight, so to speak, and everything will be restored to its natural, proper order. Every living being will continue to exist, only in a different fashion. Vegetals will be spared, but as for everything else? Not one single mammal, or amphibian, or reptile, or what have you will be left; they will all be converted into equivalent insectoid lifeforms." She eyes Vanya suspiciously as she pushes the bottle across the table. "A gift offer of more fermented wheat? It is accepted," she says, and chugs down the glass of water. She narrows her eyes at Vanya. "...good timing with your offering. This trickery may fool humans, but are no matches for my enhanced senses." She grabs the other bottle, and scoffs, "The Insect Queen does not stand or sit at someone else's whim. If you want to see my magnificence /right now/, you may stand up yourself and take a walk. Otherwise, you will have to wait."
Vanya	"Pfft! You're a guest here - show a little manners," Vanya chuffs light-heartedly as she slips her feet out of her loafers and spreads her arms to grip either side of their table.     "And hold onto that glass," she adds as the tabletop lurches with a loud scraping noise of wood on wood. Still keeping her seat, the feral brawler wrenches the furniture backwards, half-dragging and half-lifting it until it thumps back to the ground by her side, leaving a suddenly empty space between their seats and the Insect Queen boxed in by wood and Russian muscle.     Tossing a peanut into her mouth, Vanya's bronze eyes fall down the insect's newly exposed 'magnificence'.
Insect Queen	Insect Queen straightens her back and, chin raised, Gives Vanya a not-amused look. She takes a finger to her chin, curled, slightly limp, as if considering her, then she scoffs, 'Uncouth,' 'But you have rendered me a great service tonight, and that will be forgiven. In fact...' She stands up, and gives worrying grin. "I think you should be rewarded."
Vanya	Vanya crunches through her nut as she sweeps the regal insect with her gaze and a smirk forms by the time the Insect Queen rises to her feet. The predator approves.     Relaxed in the alien's tall and inhuman shadow, the were-woman rests one arm on the table beside her and the other in her open lap. "And what do you call a reward?" she asks with a playful bit of fire in her gaze. At ease or at play, Vanya's thick-browed stare is no less piercing.
Insect Queen	Insect Queen steeples her fingers and leans over. "Oh, just a small thing. I would be interested to treating you to dinner, over at my humble abode. Some subject matters are too delicate to discuss in public. And, who knows, maybe we will discover we have business to talk about." A leap in the air, and the Insect Queen, in a moment, is one inch tall and airborne, zipping about, constantly changing direction, like a fly. Unless something attempts to interrupt her, she'll land behind Vanya, leaving her boxed-in position, and grow again to her full size. Nearby people have gone silent and are starting to stare. Phones have come out, and, most likely, videos are being shot. "I hope you will understand if I do not stop, I am normally not a fan of enclosures I have not built myself."
Vanya	Vanya chuckles at the offer before the alien suddenly transforms in size. The predator's eyes dart around as they follow the insect's flight with inhuman precision before Violet's tenant passes over her shoulder. Smiling easily, the brawler rises to her feet and pushes her chair aside so she can turn around and face the Insect Queen on her feet. There's a substantial height difference but juxtaposed with her gossamer wings and wasp-waisted physique, the Russian brawler might as well be a brick shed.     "You could have stood when I asked," Vanya jokes. "And what's for dinner?"
Insect Queen	Insect Queen scoffs, "A Queen stands whenever she means to. Not one moment earlier, not one moment later." Someone's finding filthy mammal's literature quotable, it seems? "Oh, I was thinking of a very robust worm soup followed by giant spider steak. Maggot cheese, then mite milk and honey. Pollen cake. Fermented fruit to close." She grins and leans in. "/Plenty/ of fermented fruit." She waves her hand, dismissively, with a fluorish. "But if you have special requests, let me know. That was just an idea." Videos continue being shot. Vanya might want to be careful about what she says next?
Vanya	If Vanya even notices that she's now the bar's center of attention, it doesn't show. "Queen of what? You're not mine," the Russian laughs as she considers the menu. It's wildly inhuman, but then again...     "Maybe add vegetables, and forget the worm; I don't eat bottom-feeders." Licking her lips as she stalks close to the alien insect, Vanya looks up with the same easy and mildly cocky smirk she's been wearing since the queen showed her carapace, stopping only a hair's breadth from ramming it. Her nose twitches as the shorter beast scents around Insect Queen's neck.     "Are we flying or walking?"
Insect Queen	Insect Queen just lets Vayna sniff, without moving by an inch. "I'm flying. You do whatever you want." she says, and takes a step back, turns, and tosses around her top-right hand, nonchalantly. "I can send a transport drone or a worker to pick you up." She turns and looks over her shoulder, and deadpans, "The /real/ stuff. Not those abominable mechanical imitations." And then returns to walking nonchalantly. "Of course, that will not be /right now/. Time will be needed to acquire ingredients, prepare the location..." She turns again, with a grin which promises nothing good. "...and the staff."
Vanya	"A transport drone sounds nice," the werewoman admits, unbothered by the alien's demeanor. "How dangerous is that giant spider? Could it kill you?"
Insect Queen	Insect Queen lets out a boisterous (but very dignified) laugh. "Me? No. The average human? With absolute certainty, and quite some enjoyment."
Vanya	Vanya lets out a dejected 'pff' at the information. "Is it at least as big as you? I always eat better after I've had some exercise..."     "You can even watch," the brawler goads as she takes a short swig from the bottle before offering it to the insect.