Crucible's Fire
Crucible's Fire
Summary: Crucible Edmonds arrives on the scene to offer some timely comfort to a friend.
Date: PHD 216
Related Logs: Several
Players:
Jules..Crucible..Nine..

There's quiet in the brig, tonight— something somber in foresight of tomorrow's festivities, perhaps. No visitors, just now, just a long, long, fiendishly long silence, interrupted only by the normal sounds of hte ship's workings through the bulkheads, become more pronounced as they are with the silence otherwise pervasive.
In her cell, Jules awaits the inevitable with a sense of growing anxiety and also relief. She looks better than she has in days. The bruises have started to clear up and her color has returned while the night sweats have stopped. Sitting on her back on the bunk, she holds the comic that was given to her by Virgil Gresham against her stomach and stares up at the ceiling, the slightest of smiles on her face.

From one of the thin slits in the flat bulkhead above keeping air circulating in the cell, something stirs. Something dark and very, very small. Something that might be mistaken for a figure of ones imagination until it briefly flashes with a pinpoint of red light, and then begins to descend from overhead, slowly, floating downward in silence until it reaches a close enough proximity to be distinguished as the shape of a spider.

Stirring from her thoughts, Jules blinks twice and locks her eyes on the shape that becomes a spider. Sitting up, she cocks her head to the side and says, "Hello Mr. Spider." Tenatively she reaches out to try and collect it in her palm.

Crucible's cephalothorax bends upward, legs splaying outward as he displays the underside of his abdomen, the back two sets of legs attaching to a finger as it comes close. He keeps his forelegs extended and raised, thorax elevated as the light on his underbelly begins to pulse red again, first rhythmically, flashing red against her finger at a steady beat, then less regularly, transmitting, if Jules thinks to look for it, a coded message.

"You're a beautiful little creature," the blonde murmurs quietly, setting the comic down in her lap so she can run her fingers along the spider's body. When the light comes on, she pauses as if listening and then cracks a smile. "Are you? So thoughtful." A pause as she thinks and then, "Something to ease the transition would be appreciated. I'm scared."

Crucible lets his forelegs down as the woman speaks, lifting each one of the front four in succession from back right to back left. then starting again at the back left and proceeding to back right. He then proceeds to crawl down into Jules' palm, letting the light's flash against her skin create a rosy glow beneath him to continue the conversation.

The smile Jules is wearing sobers and she looks away down the hall at the rest of the brig. "Don't risk harming anyone else just to ease my passing. But if you can manage to do it just to me, I am ready, Mr. Spider."

Crucible pauses at the reply, continuing to move his forelegs in the same repetitive cyclical fashion he had before. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Then, walking down over her wrist, down her forearm to the crook of her elbow, he continues to trail those flashing red lights down her arm.

"You're very kind. Very kind." The blonde slowly starts to settle back down on the bunk and makes herself comfortable. The comic from Gresham is clutched against her chest and her elbow held out just so to cradle the spider. Jules looks at the ceiling for a while and then closes her eyes, her breaths coming slower as she relaxes. "You know… Charity. Love. Love is god's greatest gift, Mr. Spider."

Whether the spider is saying anything else for the moment is a matter of doubt, since the light, if it is still flashing, is out of sight. But the sticky prickling of minutely barbed toetips over skin is quite palpable as Crucible rises from the cradle of her elbowpit, crawling his way slowly, almost— soothingly? up her arm and to her shoulder, then across the straps of her top only to reappear along the curve of her throat, taking a step forward and then pausing, forelegs tapping in that same series of four taps, three times in a row before it stops, and he moves, shifting angles, then tapping again, three times four taps. He moves again, three further sets of taps, doing some sort of slow, morbid dance along the woman's throat until it finds its mark, and stands there for a good long time, all six legs tapping out a circle that spins methodically in place, the pattern almost hypnotic in its soothing repetitiveness and its soft, cool touch on sensitive skin.

There's not a stir from Jules at this point. She just goes fully quiet, breathing very deeply. The comic is still held against her bosom by her hand, but it starts to go slack and falls to the side, leaving the comic behind. Every so often her eyelids twitch. Otherwise there's not much else from her.

And there's not much else from Crucible, at this point, either. A cycle of tapping legs sees its end and the eight barbed tips draw in, clinging a little tighter to flesh before he draws his body forward and down against skin, pressing his face to her jugular and spitting out a short needletip, producing a sharp pinching sensation which quickly fades in the numb heat of whatever was subsequently injected. True to his word, the spider stays in place until the throbbing underfoot comes to a halt. Then his abdomen lifts into the air, toebarbs pricking off of skin as he's drawn upward again whence he came.

And the brig is left again in silence. This time, though, it's without the steady breathing of one Juliette Ozymandias. There's a last breath from the woman before she is perfectly still and quiet.

Nine, for her part, keeps her back pressed to the shaft wall, her ear by the narrow protrustion leading to the vent. She doesn't know whether the venom's hit home, but she doesn't hear anything further, and soon enough there's a small tinny tapping of metallic legs on metal by her ear, crucible crawling into the orifice and then out of it again, wandering across her face and coming still over a closed eye. She waits a few minutes more, then moves back off toward the engines.

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