The room is small... and seems to be sealed off, no sign of a doorway in or out. The walls aren't as blank as she'd suspected, however - there are long gouges, and other marks like someone carved weird symbols in there, too. Her feet hit a pile of packages that's about half a foot high. One tumbles into the light. It looks like the design is supposed to be brightly coloured, but the hues have been leeched out, leaving a grayscale rendering of strange insects on the package, which starts to buzz and move slightly.
"...I was...out. Around 3am. Minding my own business. Some big sonovabitch came up and tried to haul me off." She stalks forwards to the sill, to look down at the creature below, mouth twisted to show off teeth. "I bit a chunk of his arm out, but he still managed to haul me off into a fucking pedovan with the rest of his friends. They didn't say anything I could understand.... ngh. And then... well. Right before I ended up here one of the fuckers pulled out a needle bigger than my hand, then they shoved my face into the floor and stabbed me. I think I passed out. Too much bullshit." She looks towards Katters. "...and then I woke up in this fucking hellscape."
"Try not to pop that unless you're going to eat the things. They bite." Red grumbles, then frowns. ".....yeah. like that. Where the hell did you get that?"
“Seems we share a backstory, to an extent,” Katters says and puts the syringe back in her pocket. “I don’t remember it, but someone injected me with the thing. Found it under my couch when I came to.” She turns her attention away from the package and toward the symbols on the walls. She runs her hand over them, feeling for any familiarity in their shape.
(( Roll wits+occult )) "...well. that's fucking... great." She groans, sinking down to sit on the floor. You can hear something impacting the wall outside, grinding against and into the stone.
“Hey, maybe it’s DMT or something,” Katters says. “And this is all just a really bad drug trip — eventually, we’ll come out of it no worse for wear and go on our merry ways.” She turns away from the symbols and back toward the window. Sounds like their guest is arriving. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a submachine gun hiding under that hood of yours.”
"....I'm not sure if I'd prefer that or not. Hmm... and no. Just a lot of knives." She tilts her head. "The hammer I found broke two days ago.'
“Can’t say I’m super enthused about getting into a knife fight with a person who is part knife, but I guess you do what you gotta.” The kit’s pretty heavy, it might do some good damage if Katters bashes someone over the head with it. But it would be awkward to wield, and that might break something inside it. At the same time, her sharp things are on the small side — they’ll need some precise hits to do any real damage, and what if the thing outside doesn’t have weak points like people do? Either way, she’s going to have to get in close to do anything. But on the plus side, two against one ain’t bad. Red doesn’t seem worried, but that could mean anything — from ‘she’s confident in her fighting abilities’ to ‘she’s too tired of this bullshit to feel worried anymore’ to ‘she’s delusional’. Katters picks the kit back up and stands near the window, watching it.
"Well, if we're lucky, we can kick it in the chest and send it over as soon as it gets to the window. A three-story will at least damage most things. If you didn't pass the rudimentary 'does this thing seem alive' test, that was the plan." She closes her eyes, grimacing. "...and as long as we get the drop on them, I think we're fine? It's the ones that really seem human that feel all wrong."
Whoops, too close. Katters hadn’t intended to let the thing see her again, but it was higher up the wall than she’d expected. Oh, well, it already knew she was in here, anyway. No harm done. “I do breathe,” she says. “And eat, and move of my own volition.”
"...have you ever met someone who looks like that?" She hesitates. "...and I don't think it has a heartbeat. Just. I think if it was ever alive... that was a long time ago."
“You wanna take another look at me and ask me again if I’m keen on judging people by their appearance?” Katters shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I didn’t get close enough to tell whether or not it’s got a pulse,” she says. She calls down to the thing, “Hey! You got a pulse?”
"....what, do you honestly think I'm in any position to judge you for being... whatever you are?" She snorts. "I'm just weeding out the obvious monsters."
It tilts its head, then opens its mouth, letting out the electronic alert of a tornado warning. The wind in the area starts to pick up, whipping Katters' hair around her face.
“Been called a monster before,” Katters says. “’Obvious monster’, that’s pretty subjective.” She raises her voice against the wind. “Sorry, I don’t speak Emergency Broadcast System — was that a yes? Two squawks for yea, three for nay. One squawk and two bleats for ‘I don’t speak English’.”
