Abella's fingers twitched in a way she knew was wrong.
In fact, her entire body had felt different ever since she woke up.
Grimacing, she set Leno- Samarie down on the bed, brushing aside the hair that covered her face.
Something was wrong with this girl, wrong in the way Abella couldn't ignore the red flags and "fix her".
There was no fixing whatever Samarie was going through. If only because Abella believed that only the girl herself could fix whatever she was going through.
The mechanic took a deep breath and sighed, feeling the various bruises forming all throughout her body.
She was going to be quite sore tomorrow, and it looked like she wasn't going to get that much rest.
"Right, let's get you checked out," August, the guy with the bow and arrow, said. "There might be more damage right under the hood. That thing did slam you through more than a few walls."
Just the reminder of what happened caused her back to flare with pain. Grunting, she took another breath. "You and me both," She agreed.
The man chuckled under his breath, producing a set of medical supplies from his backpack. "Then, how about you help me out as well. Lord knows I got more than a few burns on my backside."
Nodding, she attempted to remove her overalls, but was stopped when she saw parts of her skin were fused to the clothing.
As soon as she felt the ache, she turned away from August, forcing her body to look more natural before he noticed.
It took her more than a few moments to realize that Abella did wear a different outfit. Right before she left the train with Marina, she was wearing the same set of overalls, along with a long sleeve button up, and a pair of jeans.
If she could just change her body into separate layers, and add those jeans underneath- alongside the other human bits- then maybe she could hide herself for just a bit long-
"What's wrong? Do you need some help?" The man got closer, concern clear in his eyes.
But concern was not what Abella(?) needed. She needed time to set herself straight.
"No, I just need a sec-" She grunted again for effect, finalizing the layers underneath. "Took some awful hits myself. And my clothes just aren't helping either."
The man snorted, stretching his back. "Me and Samarie here have been fighting all day. Though, don't see her complaining much especially since she's taken most of the hits."
His gaze became softer before glancing back towards the passed out girl. "Seen very few like it, and even fewer on humans. Her body recovers what would take us weeks in just a few hours. Sulfur pits be damned, she regrew an entire arm when I found her."
Abella gulped, because this man had encounters with the supernatural. Things that nature or science could scarcely explain!
Worse yet, she couldn't shake off the feeling that if she exposed her secrets, then he could kill her on sight.
Steadying her nerves, she finished separating the layers. Her "clothes" no longer attached to her skin like an exoskeleton. And Abella also had "those parts" underneath all of that as well.
She was ready. At least she hoped so.
Peeling off the rest of her overalls, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her body. All except for a nasty purple welt over her obliques, and ending right around her hip.
In the short time she had, Abella was able to control her biology to relatively large degree. Though, how far she would be pushed was for her and this August to find out.
She winced slightly, as it was revealed, having to lift part of her tank top to fully expose the bruise.
Just a little bit longer. She just needed to wrap her wounds, and she could calm down and assess the situation.
A troubled expression crossed the older man's face, as he searched his bag for some other type of salve to fix it. He produced a pair of blue herbs, both releasing a potent bitter scent. Setting them aside, he then brought out a grinder and a steel cup.
"Blue herbs, I was lucky enough to find a few in the city's outskirts before things went to shit," He explained, placing both herbs into the grinder. "They won't do anything as fantastical as what Samarie does, but it will curb the pain, and hasten the recovery process."
He ground them down into a sort of paste, adding the mixture into the cup, before pouring in water. "It's going to taste like death. But, as my wife says, the best medicine always does, it just means it's working."
With a reassuring smile on his face, August offered the glass over to Abella. The mechanic glancing down at the off-blue mixture before swallowing the lump in her throat.
'Would this heal supperficial damage?' She wondered, before downing it all in one go.
Immediately, she made an attempt to wretch it out, the taste far worse than the man had described it.
It wasn't just bitter, it was absolutely revolting!
Despite the protests of her body, she was able to push it far enough that she could ignore it.
Abella would have to isolate it later, and spit it out. Perhaps while it was August's turn to-
The doppleganger felt the abrupt internal change wreak havok on her system.
A restorative force, the likes of which she had only experienced from deep beneath the earth. From the roots that sprouted her blank slate.
Her core, the single most important part of her body, was healing. The many cracks it had endured from attacks, mended right before her very being.
Abella suppressed the urge to relax. She couldn't. Not when she was so exposed.
Coughing into her hand, she allowed the moment to pass like any other, changing the color of her bruise from a harsh purple, to a milder red. Her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates as she watched the change.
"Feeling better already," She said in faux awe. "At this rate, I'll be right as rain before morning."
The older man grunted. "Though for now, you should rest for a while. I'll keep watch so something doesn't sneak up on us. I'll be by the elevator if you or Samarie need anything."
With that, August took his leave. Walking away from the bunker's infirmary.
As for Abella, she couldn't feel any more relieved. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she allowed herself to slump.
From the time she awoke, she never had the time to unwind or process her role.
For those like her, who dwelled deep beneath the earth, they were meant to replace those on the surface. Playing the role of those who departed over the course of the Termina festival….
Or so, it was supposed to be, until Len- Samarie discovered her unconscious form laying on the chair.
In the process of assimilating her collected experiences, she was made defenseless.
Captured, she had no choice but to submit to the girl's whims.
Only, Samarie seemed more confused on how to proceed when Abella pushed her luck with that kiss.
Although, that still left her in quite the predicament.
None of her kind were meant to be seen by those participating in the festival. They simply had no horse in the race, as they themselves were meant to replace the participants after the fact.
So, because of this, she needed to make an exit as soon as possible.
Abella shook her head, a pit forming in her throat as she tried to stomach the thought. The facsimile of the mechanic was attempting to dictate her decisions, and the skinwalker part of herself was finding it hard to disagree.
She couldn't just leave behind Samarie, or Marina… Could she?
Perish the thought.
Soon, she would make a break for the exit, and exit the stage before she encountered any others.
It hurt her to do so, but it was for the greater good.
Perhaps she could still make a life if she found their doppelgangers on the outside.
{---}
Night drew, and the biting cold stung at Marina.
The Prehevil Bop was, by all means, a speakeasy. One the survivors of this nightmare congregated to in their time of need.
The occultist sat at the bar, a glass of scotch in her hand as she tried to drown the day's events.
Too much had happened all at once. So much that she barely succeeded in stomaching it.
Although, when she glanced at the despondent girl next to her, it seemed like she wasn't the only one.
Karin, the reporter she spotted on the train, was nursing a drink that was black as pitch.
Her eyes were unfocused, looking like she was somewhere far off.
Or perhaps she was just looking at Marcoh and Da'an, both of whom were chatting over their own glasses.
Overall, it just seemed like neither of them were enjoying life at the moment. Each for their own reason, probably. But that didn't mean she had to deal with it alone, right?
Then again, where would she start? The entire day was a complete mess!
Glancing at the alcohol glistening in her glass, an idea sudden entered her head.
Perhaps it was hasty, or unwise of her…
But when in doubt, surely alcohol would pave a smoother path, right?
Marina crushed her doubts along with her glass, the scotch burning as it made its way down her throat.
"Hey eye patch, get me another glass!" She called over the buzz in her head.
Looking back at her, the doctor eyed her with what looked like annoyance. Though, he still poured her the glass she wanted.
And just like earlier, she downed the entire glass in one go as well. Coughing as the sting of alcohol proved too much for her throat.
Marina's entire body burned, much like a fever. Her thoughts came out muddled, and her inhibitions let off their leash.
She sat there for what felt like an eternity, quietly stewing in the act. Time for her to think of a million imaginary conversations.
"Rough day, huh?"
All before destroying subtlety with a sledgehammer.
Karin looked at her with something that approached amusement. The same kind of look one would give to a child they couldn't shrug off, nor could they ignore.
A twitch of the eye was all Marina needed for her to regret her actions.
"You know what, I am having a 'rough day'. If it isn't one thing coming to swat the mood down like a fly. It's another cruely burning it with a flamethrower."
And yet, the reporter entertained the idea. Placating her for just that moment. Perhaps if she did not say anything so idiotic, she could keep the conversation going long enough to forget her problems.
Marina looked back at her empty glass for what felt like the hundredth time.
"It's even worse when you have a horse in this race, you know?" Subtlety had gone on strike, apparently calling for a worker's union. "I don't even know if I killed or otherwise gunned down what might have been my old friends…"
Karin looked at the girl's glass as well. Deciding that sobriety was for those with more sense than IQ points, she washed it down in one shot. Even calling Da'am to refill both their glasses.
Reluctantly, the pirate-like man did as he was told, eyeing both of them weerily, before off-handedly mentioning it would be the pair's last.
This time, they drank slower. The air around them becoming so thick it could be cut with a knife.
Right, Marina wasn't exactly the best at dealing with these kinds of things. Perhaps it would have been better to ask something else? Say anything except what she blurted out in front of everyone.
Marina sighed, the alcohol making it much harder to think.
In the midst of her musings, a hand tugged at her long sleeves.
Turning her head, the girl found… Olivia?
What was shee doing here-?
"I think you've had enough, Marina," She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Let me help you to the beds."
"Help how?" She wondered aloud, downing the rest of her glass. "But you can't go down ladders, you'll fall."
Her voice spoke with the utmost of seriousness, which caused the reporter next to Marina to chuckle.
"Point out the obvious, why don't you?" Karin jeered, her words slightly slurred. "At least take a hint and accept the hand the girl gave you."
She knocked on Marina's shoulder whilst taking a sip of her drink. "Then again, with your comment earlier, I doubt you got the tact for even that."
The occultist's brow rose, her chest heating up as she pointed a finger at the reporter, jabbing it into…
Into…
Well, it was easy to say that she was certainly more aware of herself now. Especially since she was being quite-
"Point proven," Karin rolled her eyes, picking the girl up by the scruff of her neck. "I've had enough for the night, and I think this little kitty's also had too much."
The reporter pointed toward the blushing Olivia. "You mind helping me out? Might be a bit hard because of your situation, but this girl practically weighs nothing."
Marina tried to escape the larger woman's grasps. Though, she only served to look more like an unruly cat.
The paralyzed girl looked constipated, as if weighing her options, though she eventually nodded. "Just as long as you don't drop her going in."
They moved towards the hidden bunker's entrance. A small space the local resistance groups used to hide from the Bremen Occupation.
It housed several double decker beds, a few weapons, and a small living space the resistance group used to discuss plans.
Funnily enough, it was discovered while Marina was moving Olivia's wheelchair.
The clumsy girl then slipped on the tiles of the bar, and unveiled its secrets. Shocking even its previous occupants, Karina and Daan, of its existence.
Once they successfully laid Marina to rest, the girl sprawled on the bed, spreading her limbs to absorb all of the bed's cold before it could escape.
Meanwhile, Olivia and Karin plopped down on the bed side, both letting out heavy sighs as the bed creaked from their combined weight.
The second day of the Termina Festival had been an ordeal for both parties. And only when they were able to relax were they able to feel the toll it took on their bodies.
Though, as their eyes blinked, and the drowsiness crept in, Olivia suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.
"You ne-" Karin paused as she yawned. "Need a hand there?"
Olivia felt a tug on her heart strings as she looked upon Marina's sleeping form.
A smile pulled at the corner of her lips, waving the reporter off. "No, I don't think I will."
Though, after several seconds, the botanist grimaced. "Perhaps my legs could use some help."
The blonde obliged her, lifting her legs up to set them on top of Marina's body.
"Alright, if that's going to be all, I'm going to hit the hay as well." Karin said, taking the bunk on top of theirs. "Good night."
"Good night." Olivia bid, her hand now caressing the top of Marina's head.
She brushed the hair out of the younger girl's face, though her attention was caught when she brushed her hand over Marina's beauty mark.
Now that Olivia was looking at it, the girl was quite cute all things considered.
But for the life of her, Oliva didn't understand why it was getting closer and closer.
Oh…
Maybe she was stricken with her after all.
As she left a chaste kiss on Marina's lips, Olivia tucked herself in right beside the girl.
Marina's hands snaked upward, running over her chest, and ending around her neck, pulling Olivia into her bosom.