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Post by Gatekeeper on Apr 9, 2018 8:47:21 GMT -8
Ashlyn takes the rear while Grease offers an arm to help Valerie down the stairs. She needs it, too - pressing her weight against the other woman's, the two of them descending into the dark basement of this family home, with the oblivious family right overhead, unaware of the supernatural drama playing out right beneath them.
The basement is of the unfinished variety, with bare brick walls and little windows, as well as loads of racks, the laundry beneath the stairs, and boxes. It's been insulated against the water well enough that it hasn't flooded, which they probably appreciate.
What she finds is incredible.
She's seen Grease's golem, of course, but never like this. She stands in a corner of the room, her eyes catching even the least light and reflecting it back. Though bald, she's very distinctly feminine with the general body shape and features of a black athlete - like Grease, honestly, but less of a scrawny nerd.
She's wearing stolen clothing. A men's T-shirt that hangs off her frame awkwardly and a pair of pants. Exotic tattoos run up and down her body, the signs Grease knew somehow would animate her - within must be machinery, too.
There's intelligence there, and it isn't the low cunning of a wild animal, but that of a frightened youth.
She's scared, yes - and also angry. As they appear, darkness gathers about her hands and she grips part of a metal frame shelving unit, tearing through it to make a makeshift weapon. She vocalizes at them, her throat capable of speech, but untaught.
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