She's adorable... and then she opens her mouth...

~Allison

[Wednesday, May 12, 2163 - 7:30]

[Butterscotch HQ > 'Section L' > Agents Quarters > Emilia and Allison's Apartment]

[Quarantine Day 2]

"Rise n' Shine, bitches!"

Allison fell out of bed from the abrupt wake-up. She pulled herself up to the bedside as Emilia rubbed her eyes and groaned, "Michelle, we're quarantined. This better be good. You're at risk too."

As she picked herself up, Allison stared at the diminutive woman standing in their kitchen doorway. She wore a pink t-shirt with camouflage cargo pants and stood a head and a half shorter than Allison herself, with blonde hair in pigtails, green eyes, and what looked like a permanent scowl. The first word that came to Allison's mind was "adorable", which only applied until Michelle spoke. "Time isn't a thing we were given. We were fortunate enough to be warned at all. I made you breakfast: Toast and eggs. You have 15 minutes to get dressed and eat." She then grabbed a folding chair and set it at the small round table before taking a box off the table and tossing it on Allison's bed. "Those are for you. I assume you're missing clothes."

"...and a shower."

"You can worry about that later. We gotta go see my boss."

Emilia raised an eyebrow and began to move as if this was a normal occurrence, getting dressed, and practically inhaling the eggs prepared by Michelle. Allison followed suit. The trio ate breakfast silently, washing the food down with orange juice. Once they finished eating, Michelle got up, walked to the door, and paused. A grimace flashed across her petite features. "That fucker just won't leave us the fuck alone..."

Allison strained her ears for a clue as to what Michelle was referring to She received her answer in the form of the sound of a bullet colliding with the door of the apartment. "What the hell?! Are we under attack?!"

""Yes and no,"" came in unison from both Michelle and Emilia.

Michelle turned to the section of the room in which her projection originated the previous day. "Rinoa, display the situation in the hallway."

<<Understood.>> Along with the disembodied voice came a 3D projection of their apartment, including the kitchen that she had yet to see, and the adjacent hallway with 2 occupants. Streaks could also be seen whizzing in the direction of one of them.

"Fucking Conrad!" and "Ducking Conrad!" were the simultaneous responses from Michelle and Emilia, respectively. They glanced at each other, smirked, and then slowly, ominously, turned to Allison. Allison felt her blood run cold and her mouth fell open, revealing partially chewed egg inside. She caught herself before any food escaped, shut her mouth, and promptly washed it down with orange juice, or tried to. The next comment made her spit half of it across the table.

"You deal with it, Thorne," Michelle said as she sauntered back to the table, picked up her cup of juice, and casually sipped it.

Once Allison's eyes finished bulging as if they would escape their sockets and she'd registered the fact that she did a very legitimate spit-take, she protested. "...uhm, what? I don't know who they are, what's going on, and I have recently been informed that I can't currently carry a firearm."

Michelle rested her chin on her hand for a moment, "Hmmm, that is a problem. If only there was a weapon we could give her that we have absolute control over..." She looked in Emilia's direction, but she'd already vanished, exiting the closet a second later.

"Catch!"

Emilia lobbed an object across the room. It followed a beautiful arc over the table and landed almost directly in Allison's hands. Allison made the necessary adjustments to catch it before realizing what it was. It felt somewhat cold but had a comfortable softness to it. It was about as heavy as a gun, but not colored like any she'd seen before. It was flesh-colored. "Wait..." Her brain began to perceive the hand-sized object: its color, weight, and texture. Her eyes scanned the item, refusing to believe what the rest of her senses were telling her. It finally culminated in a terrified shriek and a dramatic sequence of movements that resulted in: the item being thrown into the air, the table being nearly flipped, Michelle moving aside with all of the drinks on the table, and Allison's chair falling with her falling over it.

The item landed on Allison, who continued screaming in terror as she swatted it away. Emilia walked up, casually, and with seemingly little effort, picked Allison up, and placed her standing back on the ground. "I'm offended you know..." she said with a grin. She reached down and picked up the hand with her right hand, and held out her left hand in a handshake gesture. 

Allison stared in confusion, still shaken from a moment ago, and took Emilia's outstretched left hand. She felt an unnatural pulse through her grip and watched Emilia back away. Emilia was 2 meters away, and attaching a left hand when Allison realized she was still holding Emilia's hand. Her face went white as Emilia stuck out her tongue. "Not much different, is it?"

Allison looked over at Emilia, then at the hand she was holding, then back at Emilia. This cycle repeated at least 4 times before Emilia interrupted it.

"You know, if you keep looking at me like that, you'll hurt my feelings. Do you find holding my hand that repulsive?"

The occasional sound of muffled gunfire and bullets colliding with walls could be heard as background noise as Allison remembered the original situation. "...No? It's just that... live fire exercises aren't how I intended to start my day..." 

[Wednesday, May 12, 2163 - 7:52]

[Butterscotch HQ > 'Section L' > Agents Quarters > Emilia and Allison's Apartment]

[Quarantine Day 2]

Allison glanced at the hand she held which was not hers, nor connected to another person. "...So, I am allowed to use guns now?"

Emilia, who finished reattaching her spare hand, had it spin all the way around, rather unnaturally, shrugged, "Only this type. It belongs to me, so I can..." 

"Owwwww, ow ow ow ow!" Allison shouted in pain as the disembodied hand squeezed hers with unpleasant force. It then loosened its grip and fell to the floor.

"...do that. You can use this particular weapon because it is technically a piece of me. If you get any funny ideas, I will deal with you accordingly. Also, don't forget, I have more than one of these hands, as you can see." She held up her newly attached left hand in the ominous finger-gun pose. Allison swore she was going to start having nightmares about that hand.

Continuing, Emilia gave the most basic rundown of the situation, "Your task is simple: disable Conrad. You are armed with 6 fast-acting tranquilizer rounds and a third hand."

"...OK.... how do I shoot it?"

Michelle responded, "Hold it like a gun and squeeze the middle finger."

Allison picked the hand up and held it, assessing its usage for the task at hand. "...It's a bit wide-handled for a gun, isn't it?"

"Are you saying I have fat fingers?"

Allison broke into a cold sweat, "No, of course not! It's just that your curled fingers are a bit wider than the handle of a regular gun. Allison held the left hand with her own left hand.

Emilia grinned, "You're right-handed, right?"

"...yes? Why?"

The disembodied left hand moved, its lower fingers uncurling. Allison took the hand in her right and the fingers entwined with hers. Allison blushed ever so slightly, up until the moment the pointed index finger's tip opened. This wasn't sharing a moment, it was a mission briefing. She rested her index finger on Emilia's middle finger. "...actually, this seems to work."

"Good", Emilia nodded, then walked over to the projection. Nothing had changed, though it had only been a couple of minutes. She walked into the closet and returned with another bundle of clothes. "Get dressed," she said as she tossed the bundle to Allison and retreated back into the closet.

Allison did a double-take after catching the bundle. "Aren't these the same pajamas we slept in?" She glanced up to see Emilia exiting the closet wearing the same pajamas. "What the hell?! You're sending me into a firefight, and tell me to get dressed in pajamas?! You even changed into pajamas!"

Michelle walked into the closet as well and returned a moment later, also sporting a set of pajamas, though hers had paw prints instead of ducks. Allison stood in absolute disbelief. Emilia shrugged and walked up to Allison, removing her left-hand-gun from Allison's right, and the bundle of clothes from her left, placing them each both the table. She then took Allison's now emptied hands and placed them firmly on her chest.

"Now isn't the time for... huh?" Allison paused in bewilderment mid-shout. "That... doesn't feel right... for a few reasons." She squeezed and was met with far more resistance than expected. She moved her hands, poking and attempting to squeeze other parts of Emilia's chest. She then turned her gaze to Emilia as the sounds of a bullet ricocheting could be heard with comedic timing, "Are these... armored?"

"Yeah, now get dressed."

Allison did as she was told and got into the armored pajamas. They were fairly comfortable despite being armored, but she had serious questions regarding the practicality of armored sleepwear. 

Michelle called them both over to the projected map, "Alright bitches, now that we're dressed, here's the plan..."

[Wednesday, May 12, 2163 - 7:59]

[Butterscotch HQ > 'Section L' > Agents Quarters > Emilia and Allison's Apartment]

[Quarantine Day 2]

Allison stood along the wall of the apartment, next to the door. She glanced at the projection once more to ensure that she'd memorized the layout of the hallway and positioning of it's occupants relative to her position. There was another shot fired at the door and she shuddered. It didn't make sense. The one known as Conrad was at a corner, to the right of their apartment door, and was shooting at Jesse, who was farther down the hall in the same direction. The one shooting was intentionally turning to shoot their door.

She took a deep breath and nodded to herself, clenching the fist of her free left hand, and gently squeezing the disconnected hand/gun in her right. The door silently opened just wide enough for her to peek into the corridor as if it understood her intent. She took the opportunity and stole a glance. She saw pale skin and blonde hair, which was all the information she'd dared to collect given the intruder's pension for needless violence. The door closed just as silently as it had opened, just in time for another bullet to collide with it.

Allison collected her thoughts and was about to enter the hallway when another shot was fired in the wrong direction, and the screech of a cat echoed in the hallway. Her eyes widened and she looked at the projected map again. Some small creature, clearly a cat by the sounds she heard, had entered the hallway left of the apartment door. Allison felt her eyebrows furrow and her gaze became severe. 

The door opened as if she'd flung it open, yet she hadn't laid a hand on it. She took a stance and peeked into the hallway to see an orange tabby standing with its fur on end. She turned in the opposite direction and set her sights on the man named Conrad, ducked to the other side of the doorway for a clear shot, and fired at his neck.

There was not much of a reaction. Conrad turned as if there was a mosquito biting him, and spied Allison. "Oh? Fresh meat?"

Allison shivered and nearly vomited at the sight of his expression. It was entirely carnivorous and malicious. She didn't relish the thought of being alone with a man in general after Transacience, but she knew in that moment that she'd rather die than be alone with that one. She ducked back around the corner into the room as bullets whizzed through the doorway and into the wall.

Emilia walked over and stood on the other side of the doorway, finger at the ready. "You hit him, right?"

"Yeah, right in the neck. He didn't seem to give a shit."

"What the duck!? I'm just glad he's not shooting at the cat any more."

"How long do those tranquilizers take?"

"About 20 seconds. Give it a few more seconds."

Conrad finally stopped shooting and slumped over in the hallway. Allison, Emilia, and the cat, all approached cautiously. Emilia poked him, toppling him, while the cat pawed at his face and stared. They stopped to look at the cat, who stared back at them as if questioning their presence. Jesse also approached while this was going on.

"Who's cat is that?" Jesse casually asked and was met with shrugs from each of them.

"Rex, come." A voice came from behind, in the same direction the cat had come from. The owner of the voice was a person fully covered in an omnisuit, face obscured by the mask, and glowing with purple LED accents. The only seemingly identifying feature was the number "36" on their left shoulder.

Michelle popped her head through the doorway, "What the fuck is KSI doing here? You bastards never show up any other time."

"Be glad it's me and not someone else. Got word of a quarantine breach. Most others wanted to kill all of you and torch the place. You're welcome."

Michelle stared up at the masked figure, "Thanks for that. So, what are you going to do with this fucktard?" She gestured to the now limp Conrad.

"Drag him out like an old garbage bag, throw him in a truck, and drop him at his quarters. Essentially nothing, but orders are orders. Can't say more than that."

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Michelle shrugged. Emilia, however, was not pleased. "Why did you bring a cat into a combat situation?! That level of negligence is criminal!" She paused as the figure turned to her. Allison and Emilia's faces seemed to freeze as the masked figure's gaze fell upon them. Though their face could not be seen, their gaze felt stern, warning them not to act. They each complied with the wordless command.

"Rex likes to stick around me. Zeros too." Another cat stepped out from behind their legs. "And if I couldn't take care of them, I wouldn't bring them." The masked figure then picked up Conrad by his shirt collar and carried him away as if holding some foul-smelling thing. "By the way, you may want to get changed. You don't want to meet anyone's boss wearing pajamas, even if they are armored." They left, flanked by the cats.

Allison looked at Emilia and then turned to Michelle. "What just happened?"

"You met an enforcer," Michelle replied. "They are an elevated version of the agency's police force. They are not people you fuck with, especially when everyone is already out for your blood. If they say they could protect those cats, then they could. They also waited to see what we'd do. They judged us, gauged us, and if they said we're lucky to have them, then we owe that fucker our lives." The trio changed their clothes before finishing their breakfast and hastily exiting the building.