#{ i know i’m a monster } ᶜʳᵒˢˢᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ

[freewillacquired]

“Nemmy! I made sweet treats! Chocolate chip or rainbow?”

"Cooooookies?" Nemesis asked, already getting excited. "Ooooo... Cho-co-late chit!" Okay, so he couldn't say "chip." He wasn't going to let that dampen his enthusiasm. Chocolate chip was his absolute favorite. Did Wanda know that, he wondered? "Thank youuu," he said affectionately.

[freewillacquired]

"Matt- Are you alright? What's happened to you?"

(for second mutation Nemmy?)

They'd been on the run now for weeks, and it seemed like maybe they had finally gotten to the point where they weren't being pursued anymore. They were wrong. Ambushed one morning where they'd hidden to sleep, Nemesis quickly made short work of the soldiers that had tried to apprehend them... but not before one of them had hit him with an accelerant and lit him on fire.

It hurt badly, but Nemesis didn't feel like it hurt as much as it should. If I'd been human still, this would've been a million times worse. Even so, after he'd killed the last of the soldiers, engulfed in flames as he did, Nemesis bounded into a nearby river to extinguish himself. The cold water felt amazing, and he could feel his body healing and regenerating itself rapidly. But that's not all it was doing...

When he emerged from the water, crawling up onto the riverbank, Nemesis... had nearly tripled in size. He was hunched over now, on all fours, most of his leather outfit torn to shreds where his body had grown sharp spikes and armored plates on his back, shoulders, and neck. There were even spikes down the backs of his arms and legs now too. His hands were now monstrous claws with curved, thick talons, and his tentacles undulated off his back and shoulders like snakes.

Hearing Wanda's question, Nemesis looked himself over as best he could. "I... I don't know!" he said, clearly upset by these new... developments. His voice was even more monstrous now, deep and resonating. "I don't think... the thirus... liked... the thire," he supposed. No sir, it didn't like fire at all. And when challenged with it, it had responded by causing Nemesis to evolve into an even more durable and protected creature...

[freewillacquired]

“Matt… would you want to stay, work with me here?” (For Nemmy)

Nemesis bent slowly to look down at Wanda, his one good blue eye blinking. Of course he'd love to stay with her, but.. working for the Avengers? He wondered if that would be allowed. Judging from the look of their nice, clean, happy facility, he was guessing his grotesquely mutated mug wouldn't be welcome there. "Not sure... they would want ne here..." he said. "I don't exact-ly... thit in... too well..."

But was it about everyone else? Or was it just about Wanda asking him to stay with her? Nemesis didn't want to say no to the only friend he had right now. Well... more than a friend, at least in their hearts. "Ith you wanted ne... to stay here... with you... then I would want that too. I just... don't want... to cause you any... un-wanted... ne-ga-tith... at-ten-tion."

[freewillacquired]

Close Call - Receiver checks in/comforts sender after a near fatal encounter with the infected (for Nemmy)

Things were a lot easier for Nemesis than they were for Wanda with regard to the undead. He had a nearly indestructible body with thick hide and muscle that wasn't easily penetrated, tentacles that could kill almost anything before he could even get his hands on it, and fast healing and regeneration that occurred within seconds. He also couldn't be any more infected than he already is, so he didn't have to be careful about touching the undead. Wanda, on the other hand, was not indestructible, and infection was a very real threat to her.

Before they'd know what was happening, a group of several undead came after them, running straight at them. Zombies weren't like how he remembered seeing in the old black and white movies, slow and clumsy. These... were fast and terrifying. He'd taken care of them, and Wanda had taken care of some herself, but they'd gotten a little too close for comfort, and Nemesis could see the fear on Wanda's face.

Going to her, Nemesis started to rub her back with one of his oversized hands. "It's o-kay... Wan-da..." he tried to reassure her. "We got... then all. They're all gone."

[youmissedone]

Maybe it wasn't planned or even ideal at this exact time, but hey, it was happening, so rather than dwell on the logistics of how and when Wanda became pregnant, Carlos chose to focus on the future. He loved Wanda and wanted to be with her, and he wanted this baby as well. So why overthink it?

"I'm always careful," he said with a big grin, but he knew that Wanda knew that wasn't always true. She had a point, though, and really, he'd been thinking for a while now that he ought to try to be a little more careful with himself if he was going to be in a relationship. It wasn't just him anymore, after all, it was them. And now baby made three. Wanda was going to need his help, love, and support, and this baby was going to need his or her father. "Alright, alright... I promise. I will actively try to be more careful in the field," he agreed.

"You can keep doing field work for a little while, if that's what you want," Carlos said. "At least physically. You just have to decide for yourself emotionally when you want to draw the line and sit things out for the rest of the pregnancy. I'll support you, whatever you want to do."

"Mmm... you think so?" he asked, a bit of pride coming through in his tone. He didn't know if he would be a great father, but he was sure as hell going to try his best. "Well, I think you're going to be the best mother ever. I've got a feeling." He grinned, his hand rubbing her cheek.

“Carlos…. I have a question..”

"Sure, go ahead," Carlos said, smiling at her.

[freewillacquired]

“Matt, do you wanna watch some spooky movies with me?” (For nemesis)

"O-kay..." Nemesis replied. "Dut no... ones adout nonsters. I'n stooky enougth... as it is." He laughed a little, but really he wondered how she could possibly want more spooky things when she had a literal monster for a friend. A boyfriend? Was that really what he was to her. Sometimes he couldn't believe it was true. "Ith you get scared... I can hold you," he offered, for he knew she liked the way his body temperature always ran warm.

[freewillacquired]

*Pecks Matt's temple* " Take a load off hon, you've certainly deserved it...you look like you've been flexing every fiber in you, since you were 'reborn'.* XD

The kiss to his temple was an unexpected surprise. How his new friend could even get that close to him, let alone want to kiss him, was something Nemesis would never understand. Nevertheless, it was a sweet gesture. "I an... a lit-tle... tired," he admitted. "Thank you... thor all your ass-is-tance," added. She really had been kind to him and without her help, he wondered where he'd be right now.

[freewillacquired]

Had his face not been so horribly mangled by surgery and mutation, Nemesis would have smiled at the way his friend bounded over to him and bumped his arm with his nose. He chuckled a bit at the gesture. It was nice to have someone be happy to see him and not... well, run away screaming. Either that, or try to shoot at him or light him on fire. This was, by far, a much better greeting by Nemesis' standards.

Nemesis lifted his hand to gently pat Eight's shoulder. "I'n glad... that you're... o-kay..." he said around his train wreck of a mouth and chronically obstructionist teeth. The whole as much as I can be sentiment was not lost on Nemesis. Boy, that's the truth, he thought grimly.

He felt badly for Eight's concern, however. It really wasn't their fault at all that Nemesis had turned out this way, regardless of how their escape attempt had gone. Actually, he'd been so happy at the time that they had managed to escape themself, even if he hadn't been quite so lucky. For that reason, he shrugged a bit at Eight's questions. "They caught ne a-gain. I had... nore ex-ter-i-nen-ta-tions. Nore mu-ta-tions. It's not... your thault... though. I'n glad... to nade it out."

That really was the truth. Nemesis wasn't one to be jealous of the fortune of others. But at that moment was when he noticed the state of Eight's own eye. "Oh no..." Nemesis said, pointing at it. "What hat-tened... to you?" he now asked, his own concern setting in.

The moment the creature responded to his attempt at calling a name familiar to him, Nemesis felt happy that, apparently, it really was Eight. How on earth had they gotten right here, right now, in the middle of the entire city going to hell? Had they been deployed, or had they escaped yet again? Nemesis had so many questions, and he was glad to see that Eight was still alive.

However, a bit of terror set in as it suddenly dawned on him that Eight might not be the same anymore. If Nemesis had been changed into... whatever the hell he was supposed to be now, then what had been done to Eight? Were they still of sound mind? Or was he about to be jumped and torn apart by a creature who probably outmatched him?

But then... God, to hear them say his name back... Nemesis could have jumped right out of his own mutated skin in joy in that moment, for all the relief he felt. "Yesss!" he responded. "It's ne!" He took a couple steps closer as well. "Are you... o-kay?" he asked, first and foremost being concerned for the friend he'd made under such dire circumstances that night in the Hive.

[freewillacquired]

"O-kay," he said, about to stay right where he was at her request. When she mentioned doing this impromptu surgery in the bath, however, he was all for it. "Oh. Yeah... good i-dea," Nemesis said. Washing away all the goopy nasties that were probably going to come pouring out of his face as soon as possible sounded like the best idea ever.

As she placed a bottle of liquor in front of him, his one blue eye widened. "Oooo..." he said, grabbing the bottle. "Could he even get drunk? He imagined so, since sedatives and other drugs had worked on him before in Umbrella's laboratories. "Thank you," he said, opening it and pouring some into his large, monstrous maw. Nemesis busied himself with getting as loosened up as possible before his new friend helped him do this disgusting deed.

"That's o-kay. Just... try your dest," he said with regard to how much it was going to hurt to literally open up his face. "I'n in... con-stant tain... any-way." Maybe he shouldn't tell her that, but it was the truth. "They used... to githe ne tain-killers... in the la-do-ra-to-ry... dut when I es-cated... i didn't hath any nore. So now... I'n al-ways... in tain." Aside from not being able to properly say te world "pain," Nemesis hated always being in it. He'd gotten very used to it, though. "I'll de o-kay," hne tried to reassure her.

He sat quietly and waited for Alex to return, finishing the bottle of liquor fairly quickly...

Inspect -( if you want to give things a try from scratch. Nemesis always looked like he could use some company )

{ Hello! I'm so sorry, I was supposed to get back to you and I completely forgot. I don't mind starting something, but I know nothing about your muse. Your rules and bio pages aren't visible to me because your blog only comes up as an inset on my dash, not as a full page. Maybe you have it set to private or something? But that's why this is going to be a little sparse, because I couldn't find any info about your muse. Nemmy could absolutely use some company, though. ^_^ }

Nemesis was used to fending off undead, and even trying to help survivors of this apocalypse. He was just as used to getting yelled at, having rocks thrown at him, or getting shot at by those very same survivors. What he wasn't used to... was anyone actually sticking around to talk to him, much less someone caring about his welfare. So he'd flinched a little to realize that someone was now... checking him for wounds? Weren't they afraid of him? Didn't they think he was ugly and monstrous like everyone else did?

He stared for a moment, just watching them fuss over him, bewildered by their concern. "It's o-kay..." he said around his large teeth and without the aid of lips. "I can't... get in-thec-ted... any-way." At least not any more so than he already was. Good thing he wasn't contagious. "I'n not hurt.... dut thank you... thor car-ing."

[freewillacquired]

As Pietro eyed the tentacles, Nemesis shrugged. "Sor-ry. They did... what they wan-ted to... while I was... asleet," he explained. He'd learned that in the short time he'd been the owner of this set of tentacles to which he was attached, that they took on more autonomy while his own mind was... offline, as it were. Even so, they didn't seem to necessarily act outside of what Nemesis would do himself.

"As long... as they're not... toisonous," he said, with regard to the potential mushrooms they could find in the forest. "I think... ny eye-sight... night tell us. When I look... at things... it tells ne... in-thor-na-tion... a-dout then." Maybe he could use the visual overlay from his retinal implant to identify safe and edible mushrooms, berries, eggs, and other things? "It is worth... a try... right?"

Nemesis was suddenly afraid for Pietro, but the twins were adults and he knew he shouldn't coddle them as if they were children. "O-kay," he said to Pietro's idea of going into town himself. "Just de care-thul. Eat sone-thing... dethore... you re-turn... so you won't get sick." Wanda had said enough times that Pietro needed to eat a lot, and if he was going to run all the way into town and back after they hadn't had any food the night before, Nemesis worried he'd burn himself out.

"Yes," he said with a nod. A feast. Man, that sounded like such a great idea. "I'll keet Wan-da sathe... don't wor-ry," he promised. As Pietro ran off, Nemesis motioned for Wanda to follow him. "Cone on... Let's go thoraging!" he said with an air of epic purpose as he trudged off into the forest. His tentacles seemed to glean his enthusiasm, for they flailed around excitedly at the prospect of going hunting for food.

“Oh Matt… what did they do to you?”

Having wanted to uncover what the Umbrella Corporation was up to once and for all, Matt had gotten more than he bargained for when he was caught snooping around a facility in Eastern Europe and discovered that not one, but two entities were responsible for the illegal human experimentation going on there. Umbrella had formed some unholy partnership with another entity called Hydra, one Matt had never heard of before, and after they imprisoned him, he wished he never had.

Matt was infected with a prototype T-virus and subjected to round after round of tests and surgeries. His body grew massive and mutated out of control. Tentacles sprouted from the backs of his shoulders, the skin on his face was puled back so tightly that he no longer had lips, and his teeth were now big enough to be a bear's. He had to wear a tight leather support around his midsection to quite literally hold in his bulging body, for it had mutated enough in some places to be painfully structurally unsound. One of his retinas had been fitted with a device that allowed a digital overlay to his regular sight, giving him the ability to identify people, creatures, and weapons just by looking at them. The synthetic neuro-transponder was sewn and stapled up into his head just behind his right eye, and with it, he could not only identify targets in real time, but also receive orders by viewing them as part of the digital overlay along with the rest of his sight. He was no longer Matt Addison. They called him... The Nemesis.

Because that had been the point of all this horrific research... to create super soldiers. more importantly, to create expendable yet durable ones that could be deployed, take a lot of damage, complete certain objectives, and then either be collected or discarded. Matt had signed up for exactly none of this, but he no longer had any rights or means to complain. He'd only seen himself in a mirror a few times, and the last time he had, he went on a half-hour-long rage that took six soldiers to stop, breaking not only the mirror but a lot of expensive laboratory equipment as well. An increase in anger and violent tendencies seemed to be a side effect of the viral mutation.

Both Hydra and Umbrella had been racing to develop some kind of control chip that could be implanted into Nemesis' brain, allowing full control of him for field deployment. As of yet, they had been unsuccessful. Massive amounts of sedatives kept him docile, but whenever they tried to back off of the concentrations, he rebelled against his captors.

Matt's only respite in this terrible place was talking with some of the other test subjects, particularly a pair of twins named Wanda and Pietro. They seemed like nice people, if not a bit naïve to the true nature of the people who held them captive. Matt did his best to educated them, telling them all about what he and his other activist comrades had discovered, but the twins seemed to have an axe to grind against one of the world's most powerful billionaires, and they thought the results of this research were going to grant them he power to punish him. In truth, Matt felt bad for them, but talking to them helped keep him sane. He hadn't seen them in a long time, though, not since he'd begun to mutate...

Until, one day, his medication had apparently not been refilled, and once the IV drip of sedatives stopped, it was a matter of minutes before Nemesis was stirring. As he groggily sat up, his one good blue eyes blinking sluggishly, he looked around to see no one in the room with him. By the time he was puling out all manner of wires and IV lines from his body and sitting up from the gurney, he heard the door to his room open behind him. Whirling around, Nemesis' rage was already provoked and he growled savagely at whoever had entered... only to immediately calm down again. It was Wanda.

Standing up from the gurney, Nemesis stood calmly, his blue eye looking her over. Then she said his name - his true name - and his head bowed in a mixture of shame and despair. "Thiral... ex-to-sure..." he tried to say,his voice low and rumbling like some creature from hell. Without lips, "v" and "p" sounds, among others, were impossible to make. "Nu-ta-tions..." Yeah, "m" sounds were also impossible. He was getting frustrated. "Surgeries." Ah, that he could say.

As he looked at Wanda, the automatic targeting software in his neural implant was downloading information. Her identification came up within view at the bottom of his field of vision. It read: "Maximoff, Wanda. Human. Female. Program: Exposure to highly concentrated alien mineral substance. Health: Stable. Progress: Satisfactory. Status: Ongoing. Threat Level: Moderate."

Behind him, his tentacles undulated with curiosity. They were strange appendages, not quite having their own sentience but definitely displaying some amount of inclination outside of Matt's own voluntary movement of them. As they curiously extended towards Wanda, Matt beat them back with his hands. "Cut it out!" he reprimanded them and they shrunk back behind him. Looking at Wanda, he sighed. "Sor-ry..."

He was glad to see that they hadn't subjected her to surgeries and mutations like they had him. "Are you o-kay... Wan-da?" he asked, hoping she was. He wouldn't have wished his fate on anyone, not even his worst enemy.

[freewillacquired]

Nemesis never thought he'd ever admit to himself that there was anything good about all his mutations, but there definitely was. If necessary, he could get right into the thick of it with whoever might try to hurt them, and likely come out unscathed. He had already decided that he would be like a shield for Wanda, should she ever be placed in terrible danger. Better that he should be the one to get up close and personal with any threats, rather than her. He knew her magic was strong, but he still felt so protective of her all the same.

As he thought of this, one of his tentacles continued to gently caress her cheek, reacting to his tender feelings for her. It was so strangely validating, in a way, that she wasn't afraid of them. Nemesis could feel free to express himself with them without fear of grossing her out or scaring her. After all, they worked for him, and not the other way around. He would never let any of them hurt her, not that they had ever seemed to want to.

His one blue eye closed as her hand found his cheek. Oh, how wonderful it felt to be touched as though he was normal, and not some hulking, disgusting monster. He really couldn't get rid of the nagging thought that this beautiful, kind woman deserved so much better than him, but... if she had chosen him, then he owed it to her to accept and respect her choice rather than to continue to question it.

"I lothe you too," he said as she kissed his cheek, his tentacles moving to wrap loosely around her waist, as if to hold her. "I'n the luckiest guy... in the world," he added, smiling even though it was barely perceptible on his severely mutated face.

"Happy New Year Matt!"

"Hatty New Year... Wan-da..." Nemesis may not have been able to say the word "happy" anymore, but the sentiment was there. "Do you hath... any wish-es... thor the new year?" He knew he couldn't exactly put everything behind him, since his entire body was an unwanted shrine to everything Umbrella had done to him. There was no forgetting that. But maybe there was a chance for Wanda. She could make a new start and hopefully have a better life. Nemesis wanted that for her, for sure.

[freewillacquired]

He just didn't understand it. How...? How could she not be disgusted by him? He was disgusted by himself, for god's sake. But if Wanda really loved him, and goodness' knows she was making that clear with her adamant reassurance, then Nemesis was going to make sure that he loved her just as devotedly right back, and that she was treated like a queen. Any woman willing to love him in his current sate was a queen, as far as Nemesis was concerned.

Deep down, Nemesis knew Wanda was right. He couldn't keep wallowing in the past all the time. It wasn't like anything was going o ever change him back into- Wait. "Wan-da..." he said, the whels in his head already turning. "What ith we thound... an Un-drel-la tha-ci-li-ty... and thound... sone oth the anti-thirus? What do you think... would hatten... ith you injected ne... with it?" It was a tossup, honestly. It could reverse some of the effects of his mutations, mutate him even more, or just flat out kill him. But wasn't it worth a try?

"I need you too... Wan-da..." Nemesis said. More than I could ever make you understand. Without her, he would have fallen into a deep depression long ago. "I'll stay with you... thor as long as you want ne to," he vowed. Especially knowing how she felt about him now, he wasn't about to ever leave her, not unless she suddenly decided she didn't want him around anymore.

Because I love you

Why are you always so kind to me? That was what he'd asked her, albeit in his own way, with his speech marred by the size, shape, and abnormal anatomy of his monstrous mouth. He'd expected something along the lines of... her pitying him. Or, that they had to stick together, both being former lab experiments and all. Something like that. Instead, she'd told him she loved him.

What was he supposed to say to that? She deserved better, he'd always told her that anytime she'd shown him affection in any way. And anytime he tried to ask her what it was she liked about him so much, she never mentioned his appearance or the grossness of his virally-infected condition, as he would have expected. She only talked about what was on the inside. She only talked about him, as he really was, without the trappings of mutation and science run amok.

Wanda was just such a beautiful person, inside and out. She had to be one of the most beautiful people he'd ever met, for no one else that he could remember in his life prior to being changed into a freak of nature would have focused on what was inside. They all would have been disgusted, afraid, or even judgmental. Wanda was a rare gem of a person who could see past it all, and yet Nemesis still felt guilty, as if he'd somehow be taking advantage of her if he just accepted her love.

"I... I can't say... the word..." he told her, and he meant it literally. He couldn't say the word "love" anymore. V-sounds were impossible without lips. "Dut ith I could... I would say it... to you. That... I lothe you too..." It was the best he could do. He'd stop telling her she should find someone else if she was so hell bent on loving him, but he still felt guilty for it. He couldn't even say he loved her back. That... that's so shitty.

[freewillacquired]

Nemesis sighed, his whole body slumping along with his dip in mood. "Yeah..." he acknowledged, looking at the curtains. He could wrap himself in those for a little while, but probably not as long as he'd need to for the leather to dry. He'd have to put something tight and supportive back on again fairly quickly to prevent further mutation.

"I could do that," he said. "Just... take oth... the ess-en-tials." If he couldn't take everything off because of health reasons, then maybe it could just get washed while it was still on him. Close enough, right? it would have to be.

A pocket of pus? Sheesh. There was pretty much never a time when anyone ever wanted to hear that phrase. It was just about the grossest thing anybody could think about. But there no doubt was one, and right inside his head, next to his brain as she'd said. The squishy sounds confirmed it. "Sor-ry..." he said, seeing how much the latest squish! had affected her. "I won't... do that... a-gain."

"Nay-de I could... deal with it... to drain ethery-thing out... so you don't hath to touch... all oth that. And then... once it's oten and drained... you could... look at it. I can't... what needs clean-ing." It's one this to go by feel, but to actually clean everything out of your own face and see what needs to be done? That was harder to do.

Was that true? If it was drained then the bacteria would get starved? Nemesis was no microbiologist, but it sounded good. The virus usually healed wounds that he had, so... if things were cleaned out, would the virus take over and seal everything up? If not, she could stitch it closed again... "I'd like... to try this," he decided. "Any-thing... you do... has got to de detter... than what it is now. I can just..." He demonstrated how he could theoretically pull the staples out with his fingers if he wanted to. Yeah, it would hurt, but it had to be easier for him than for her to do.

Inspect -( if you want to give things a try from scratch. Nemesis always looked like he could use some company )

{ Hello! I'm so sorry, I was supposed to get back to you and I completely forgot. I don't mind starting something, but I know nothing about your muse. Your rules and bio pages aren't visible to me because your blog only comes up as an inset on my dash, not as a full page. Maybe you have it set to private or something? But that's why this is going to be a little sparse, because I couldn't find any info about your muse. Nemmy could absolutely use some company, though. ^_^ }

Nemesis was used to fending off undead, and even trying to help survivors of this apocalypse. He was just as used to getting yelled at, having rocks thrown at him, or getting shot at by those very same survivors. What he wasn't used to... was anyone actually sticking around to talk to him, much less someone caring about his welfare. So he'd flinched a little to realize that someone was now... checking him for wounds? Weren't they afraid of him? Didn't they think he was ugly and monstrous like everyone else did?

He stared for a moment, just watching them fuss over him, bewildered by their concern. "It's o-kay..." he said around his large teeth and without the aid of lips. "I can't... get in-thec-ted... any-way." At least not any more so than he already was. Good thing he wasn't contagious. "I'n not hurt.... dut thank you... thor car-ing."

[freewillacquired]

Nemesis looked down at himself. Yeah, he was dirty. And smelly. And downright gross. There was not only the dirt and dust of ages on him from wandering the roads and generally living outside like the semi-feral monstrosity he was, but there was also the little matter of the remnants of various kills that had formed a nice sort of crust on his outfit.

Okay, so maybe "nice" wasn't the proper word at all to use for such a thing.

The point was that she was absolutely right. He needed a bath, or ten, right now. He needed one last year. It was embarrassing, to be sure, but before he could get too bogged down in his own shyness and shame, she was already offering him a solution. A shower. One he probably had to do on his knees and the logistics of it would be a bit weird, what with his rather inflexible body, but... a shower. He could actually have a shower. The idea of that was even more tantalizing than food, and he'd been really hungry.

But then she mentioned his actual clothes and his heart dropped. For more reasons than one. He couldn't take it off. Probably not physically, but also not as a simply point of fact. The physical part was just unfortunate... He simply couldn't yank it off himself and he couldn't twist around enough to undo all these ridiculous buckles. The fact, though, was that his body couldn't exist without it. Not unless he wanted to invite painful injury and further mutation. It was, for lack of any better or potentially less comical way of putting it... a load-bearing leather dress. Eh-hem. Nemesis could have cringed at how ridiculous that sounded.

"It... holds in... ny or-gans. And it keets ethery-thing... con-tained," he tried to explain. "With-out it... I night... nu-tate ethen nore. Or things night... get all screwed ut... in-side..." He pawed at his chest and midsection. "Ith I got it oth... I'n not sure... I could get it... dack on a-gain." All seemed hopeless at the moment. "Un-less... you know... oth sone-thing else... I could wear?" Yeah, like any XXXL-sides leather butcher's outfits lying around that you're not using at the moment? Nemesis wanted to facepalm himself into oblivion.

When she moved on to tackling the issue of his massive headache and squishy bits underneath his stapled eye-flap, Nemesis also felt rather defeated. As much as the thought of having it opened and cleaned out was very appealing to him, he just couldn't do that to her. He was completely nasty... and it was a safety issue. "Thanks... dut I can't... ask you... to do that. It would be soooo grooooss..." he groaned. "And desides... I was told that I'n not... con-ta-gious... dut what ith the stuth... in here... is?"

He pushed on the right right of his face with one finger, and the moistest, squishiest of sounds resulted. "Awww, nan... did you hear that?" he said despondently. "I wouldn't... try to deal... with this... un-less you hath a haznat suit... or sone-thing," he suggested.

"Yeah..." he said, agreeing with her assessment. Whatever implant they put in there might have already been healed around, but if they weren't careful about sterility and just stapled him up, then who knew what had been growing in there, causing swelling that pulled at the staples that would never be fully accepted by his body. He let out a long sigh. "Well... I can at least sho-wer... with this on... I guess..." he said, stomping off to do just that. Why should she have to deal with his grossness a moment longer?

Inspect -( if you want to give things a try from scratch. Nemesis always looked like he could use some company )

{ Hello! I'm so sorry, I was supposed to get back to you and I completely forgot. I don't mind starting something, but I know nothing about your muse. Your rules and bio pages aren't visible to me because your blog only comes up as an inset on my dash, not as a full page. Maybe you have it set to private or something? But that's why this is going to be a little sparse, because I couldn't find any info about your muse. Nemmy could absolutely use some company, though. ^_^ }

Nemesis was used to fending off undead, and even trying to help survivors of this apocalypse. He was just as used to getting yelled at, having rocks thrown at him, or getting shot at by those very same survivors. What he wasn't used to... was anyone actually sticking around to talk to him, much less someone caring about his welfare. So he'd flinched a little to realize that someone was now... checking him for wounds? Weren't they afraid of him? Didn't they think he was ugly and monstrous like everyone else did?

He stared for a moment, just watching them fuss over him, bewildered by their concern. "It's o-kay..." he said around his large teeth and without the aid of lips. "I can't... get in-thec-ted... any-way." At least not any more so than he already was. Good thing he wasn't contagious. "I'n not hurt.... dut thank you... thor car-ing."

[freewillacquired]

"I doubt... we can thind... any den-tists... a-round here. And ethen ith we did... I'd scare the hell outta then... any-way," Nemesis said rather dejectedly. "Dut yeah... nayde sone-day. Not to-day, though." Probably not ever, but he wasn't going to bog himself down with those kinds of intrusive, negative thoughts. Goodness knew he had enough to worry and be upset about without dwelling on his... less-than-debonair visage.

At least he didn't have scurvy? See, things are looking up, he thought with sarcastic amusement.

But there was a frightening thought. People forgetting something like dentistry. It made sense, of course, that skills would be lost with the sheer number of people that had been killed worldwide, but... something as essential as dentistry? It made him wonder about all the other essential skills and services that would either be lost or spread much too thin as the world tried to recover from all the madness. Suddenly he didn't envy a lot of the survivors.

"There is... an in-thec-tion... though..." he begged to differ. Lifting a hand to his face, he put pressure on the flap of skin that had been stapled over his eye. "In here," he said. Pushing on it produced not only a whole world of pain, but an absolutely vile squishing sound inside his head. "Sone-tines... it snells real-ly gross... inside here..." he said. "There's sone-thing... real-ly wrong... with it." There wasn't much he could do about it, though. He was no doctor. "It's where... they sur-gi-cal-ly... ad-ded... a re-ti-nal in-tlant. It adds... a di-gi-tal... other-lay... to ny sight." Was this too technical for her? Maybe, but it was the truth. "Dut I'n guess-ing... ny head didn't like... hathing a netal thing... sewn into it." Most heads generally didn't, yeah.

Hearing her plight about being a walking target for anything undead or mutated or both, Nemesis felt badly for her. But those days were over! "Well now... you hath... a huge guard. I won't let... any-thing... hatten to you." He meant that, too. She'd helped him a great deal, maybe even saved his life. She'd given him delicious spam - with sauces! - and offered to try to bake him cookies. For all of that, he owed her the world.

"You're right a-dout... the nu-ta-tions... dying with-out thood. They're still alithe... so they can... ac-tu-al-ly die. Dut that... could take... a while. Weeks or nonths. And the un-dead... will still de a-round... thor years. Dut nay-de sone-one... will think oth sone-thing." A way to cure the whole earth of this virus? Not likely, but Nemesis could dream.

And now... onto the much more pleasant subject of baking cookies! As she began to address and compliment his tentacles personally, though, they started to spread out and undulate excitedly, almost in the manner a dog's tail might wag at praise from its owner. Nemesis groaned and facepalmed, even as his tentacles were happy to soak up their new friend's kind words about them. "Well... at least... they're into it... with us. So let's nake sone coooookies!"

Inspect -( if you want to give things a try from scratch. Nemesis always looked like he could use some company )

{ Hello! I'm so sorry, I was supposed to get back to you and I completely forgot. I don't mind starting something, but I know nothing about your muse. Your rules and bio pages aren't visible to me because your blog only comes up as an inset on my dash, not as a full page. Maybe you have it set to private or something? But that's why this is going to be a little sparse, because I couldn't find any info about your muse. Nemmy could absolutely use some company, though. ^_^ }

Nemesis was used to fending off undead, and even trying to help survivors of this apocalypse. He was just as used to getting yelled at, having rocks thrown at him, or getting shot at by those very same survivors. What he wasn't used to... was anyone actually sticking around to talk to him, much less someone caring about his welfare. So he'd flinched a little to realize that someone was now... checking him for wounds? Weren't they afraid of him? Didn't they think he was ugly and monstrous like everyone else did?

He stared for a moment, just watching them fuss over him, bewildered by their concern. "It's o-kay..." he said around his large teeth and without the aid of lips. "I can't... get in-thec-ted... any-way." At least not any more so than he already was. Good thing he wasn't contagious. "I'n not hurt.... dut thank you... thor car-ing."

[freewillacquired]

"That's true," Nemesis said, and his tentacles were certainly on board with all manner of trying different foods to see if they were of any nutritional value to him. It had been a long time since he'd had real food instead of something old, stale, canned, or half-rotten. He really was grateful to her for helping him in this manner. It had been just as long since he'd had a real friend too.

"I'n not sure... how good a con-di-tion... ny skin is in..." he said, lifting his hand to touch his haphazardly-stapled face with pudgy fingers. "Dut ny teeth... are so-lid." Yes, very solid. So solid they drove him up a wall. "I hate then. They're so... an-noy-ing," he admitted. "Why do they hath... to de so dig? It's ri-di-cu-lous!"

Of all the issues with having been mutated and surgically mutilated, his face was the most offensive. With one eye covered up, ear holes instead of actual ears, no hair, and teeth that would better fit some prehistoric whale, he felt entirely monstrous and not the least big functional. "I can't ethen say... ny own nane. I hath to say... Natt. Really? Natt? Do you know... what a gnat is? It's an in-sect!" Now of course the butchered form of "Matt" and "gnat" were two different things, but... well, they didn't sound all that different coming from his weird mouth.

He felt so badly for his outburst, not only because he'd clearly frightened her a little with it, but also... she had a point about the noise. Although... "Don't wor-ry. Ith any-thing gets in... I can get rid oth it... thor you. I'll... tro-tect you. I can't get... any-nore in-thec-ted... than I already an... any-way." It definitely would make the most sense for him to deal with any threats at this point, whether infected or just men with guns. In this apocalypse, one never knew what they would come across. But he was far more durable and far less vulnerable to injury and infection than his new friend was. Just... as long as he didn't get too injured too fast, faster than his body could regenerate. LIke... he had last night, apparently. Oopsie?

Okay. Oooookay. All this talk of cookies. And of liqueurs. Did... did she have chocolate liqueur? Like that Godiva stuff? Or Bailey's? Or. Or... His mind was racing with the possibilities. His chocolate-starved self was running wild with the possibilities. "Cho-co-late... coo-kies... are just as good. I would kill... thor sone oth those." He realized how bad that sounded. "Hyto-the-ti-cally... oth course."

Would... Would she actually make him cookies? He felt like kindof a jerk for even attempting to ask for that, but... oh god, if he could just have one cookie... "I would... de so grate-thul... ith you would... nake sone coo-kies," he said. "I'll helt you!" He gestured towards his tentacles. "These guys... can roll dough... like crazy!" Not... that he'd tested that theory at all. "I nean... I inagine they can," he said with a shrug.

Inspect -( if you want to give things a try from scratch. Nemesis always looked like he could use some company )

{ Hello! I'm so sorry, I was supposed to get back to you and I completely forgot. I don't mind starting something, but I know nothing about your muse. Your rules and bio pages aren't visible to me because your blog only comes up as an inset on my dash, not as a full page. Maybe you have it set to private or something? But that's why this is going to be a little sparse, because I couldn't find any info about your muse. Nemmy could absolutely use some company, though. ^_^ }

Nemesis was used to fending off undead, and even trying to help survivors of this apocalypse. He was just as used to getting yelled at, having rocks thrown at him, or getting shot at by those very same survivors. What he wasn't used to... was anyone actually sticking around to talk to him, much less someone caring about his welfare. So he'd flinched a little to realize that someone was now... checking him for wounds? Weren't they afraid of him? Didn't they think he was ugly and monstrous like everyone else did?

He stared for a moment, just watching them fuss over him, bewildered by their concern. "It's o-kay..." he said around his large teeth and without the aid of lips. "I can't... get in-thec-ted... any-way." At least not any more so than he already was. Good thing he wasn't contagious. "I'n not hurt.... dut thank you... thor car-ing."