RP:A Proper Solution

Part of the A Few Fox Tales Arc

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary: Ina & Langley go on a hunt for one of the ingredients Ina needs to fulfill her Contract. That said- things go -horribly- awry, and she finds herself revisiting things that are better left buried.

House Markan

Ina kicks her legs out not for the first time, as she does her best to balance her butt on the edge of the desk she's claimed as her seat. And even as gravity endeavours to reassert some semblance of control over the situation, the faded fox retains her defiant nature- nails slipping into the wood surface so she can maintain the awkward posture. Which, in effect, is probably annoying, given that she's doing this in the midst of a lab- while the latest 'serum samplee' is busy being suppressed. "Mmm." The lab hands were definitely getting better at taking care of things. "Yeeeeah. So- I think I hit a solution. 'N, topically- it is a solution." She lifts her hands up in order to clap them together- prompting her to tilt forward sharply, before her hands are drawn back down to the table's rim to clench furiously. "I jus' need a lil bit a' help insofar as the travel n' procurement. Since, well- the other leads I had are being a bit slow, at least insofar as producing ...viable specimens." What part of 'Alive' was lost on people? And especially, 'Alive, but severely beaten into a pulp.' The troll that had been delivered from a third party had, in fact, been healthy enough that it outright survived having acid thrown in its face -and- being set on fire, before the attempts at its life had enabled it to break free from its holding space and escape. "We'd jus' have ta visit Snake-city. Discreetly, probably, since I heard dey got problems."

Langley had her multitasking skills on full display. One hand held a letter written by her newest arch-enemy, a promise of revenge and punishment for Langley's actions written in very descriptive and colourful language. They were smart enough to send it by way of courier imp though. The other hand was busy jotting down a little personal note for later, the words "Fermin - possible alliance?" scrawled elegantly across a scrap of parchment. A tentacle was busying itself with stamping requisition forms from various Markan researchers seeking House currency and resources for various projects. Some were stamped with a big red "approved" while others were deposited into a rubbish bin that Langley had, at some point, labelled as "feces" in order to really drive the point home on what she thought of those particular projects. "So, to be clear, we're abandoning those prior ideas you had? Or are we just-" Langley paused for a moment when a lab assistant scurried in, profusely begging Langley's forgiveness and then explaining that they had run out of room to store the reanimated corpses. "-Any researcher not working on Grade Three or higher projects are to be ejected from their labs and put onto more important or valuable projects. You may use those labs as storage for now." Langley sighed and then waved the minion off, who retreated promptly without a word. They were learning to waste as little of Langley's time as possible. That was good. "Are we just putting those ideas on hold? It is all the same to me, so long as the serum is ready… soon. There are murmurings and I intend to be prepared." Her voice dropped with vitriol but admittedly, it was not truly aimed at Ina. Between the famine, Nasar, Blackwell, and certain absences… Langley was quite short on patience these days.

Ina doesn't look happy when the word 'abandon' crops up, "S'not worth abandoning if we don't know if works well 'r not. S'just-" Finding someone whose love of gold outweighed their ethical code, had the talents -and- the availability was, "I had ta' deal with an ass tryna pass off a salamander with some extra heads alchemically --adhered- to it as a salamander. Like I applaud the sheer friggin -gall- of it all, but also- that's been the best of what I've been getting. As fer tha' lil page I put out on the rangers guild? Nada." ...Maybe she should just -cause- a disaster. While she might not be able to capture a hydra on its own- It's not like -finding- a potential lair would be as hard, and once found- introducing some alchemical contaminants in potential prey- the sort that might drive it into a frenzy, or give it fire-breathing or the like. That sort of thing usually got people moving. "Yeah, No- that might be tha' ticket." Or finding out if their regenerative properties would let them adapt to the embiggening potion despite its normal inability to enlarge a creature's vascular system. Would it work? Would it die? Would it find some happy medium? Who knows. "Anyways- No, this is more like a stop-gap that might at least -stabilize- it, I'm jus' not sure it'll address the whole..mass production, or..sustenance aspect of it. S'gonna be more like..filler, I guess?" She was talking around the subject, "I was thinking Alithryan slimes- since they're pretty adaptive, and even before we take inta' account what I can do, their bodies would make for a good base for any concoction."

In the distance, she can hear the sound of smashing, of objects being crammed into boxes, and papers hitting the wind as research projects are summarily packaged or discarded. Really, Ina has the sneaking suspicion that Langley probably had some of these projects already marked as a 'Flagrant waste of time', and this was just an excuse to shut the door on some of them sooner than later. "Anyways- figured I'd pitch it, n' if ja approve- we uh, sally forth. Maybe spookily, if that's in ja capacity."

Langley silently listened, having grown accustomed to Ina's way of mixing personal musings into conversation at this point. Objecting to the behaviour generally only led to further rambling, which was very likely meant to annoy Langley further. It was much more productive to just let Ina get to the point at her own pace. And when the foxkin finally finished, Langley snapped her fingers which incited a crow with a red ribbon around its neck to fly from its roost to her shoulder. ”I will be performing some field research. I do not know when I will be back. If anyone comes to this office looking for me to solve some problem for them, you are to give them this exact message." Langley paused and cleared her throat. "Figure it out. Should they object to this in any way, you may peck out one eye." The raven listened intently and then seemed to nod before fluttering back to its roost. Perhaps a walk would do Langley some good. There was an energy within Vailkrin that she did not much care for. And the thing beneath her skin was constantly urging her to find it and fight it. Such squabbles were better saved for later, when perhaps Langley or someone else had found a way to yank certain souls back into this side of existence. "I am capable of travelling spookily, as you put it. But you won't enjoy the experience."

Ina looks positively thrilled at the promptness in which Langley rises to the occasion, hopping from the desk, to land on one foot, before bouncing to the other. The micromanagement elements of this whole endeavour are of substantially less interest to her, but- given that it's Langley's Corvid Companion that's essentially been granted Seniority, the fox would feel remiss if she didn't at least add, "We'll be sure to bring back something worth crowing about." ...Huh. She didn't know birds could look that -disappointed-. In any case, this meant they had to go ahead to do adventure, "Are we talking like sea sick n' nausea, or like- turnin' inside out and becoming gristle. Because, I -think- I have some ginger in my bag that I can chew on. . ." She definitely doesn't want to walk, and or swim to the snake city. "Like, what's da degrees here."

Langley stands, fingers slowly unbuttoning her blouse. There is nothing particularly sultry about it though. All business. Like taking one shirt off to put a new one on because the old one had some wine spilt on it. Where there should be a chest and stomach though, there is only a gaping maw that housed a blackness beyond. It was the kind of darkness that light could not only not penetrate, but seemed to be engulfed and devoured. "Keep your destination in your mind. Focus on it. You'll see your deepest fears. You must not react to them. You will be offered that which your heart desires most. You must not accept. It will feel like days have passed but I assure you, only moments will have gone by. Do not lose yourself. You will see a way out in the distance. You must move towards it, no matter how far away it seems." Langley explained. For most, she'd not give this sort of warning but Ina had usefulness still. "I will be pulled through once you arrive. It will be… unpleasant to see."

Ina -normally- wouldn't care to heed much in the way of warnings, but there's something disquieting about the absence enshrined within Langleys' body. A sinking dread that seems to try and uncomfortably wedge itself into the back of her thoughts, to settle neatly amidst her guts. Something almost familiar in a wretched way, that sees her shifting to the balls of her feet, so that she can begin discreetly slipping away from the source of it all.

But only briefly. Because even if every rational part of her was screaming at her to run, and even if she'd spent the majority of her life doing just that- she could at least choose the direction. This is about the point she closes the distance between herself and Langley- and dives headlong into the obliviating depths of the presented void.

To tumble through featureless stygian corridors. To vanish in silence, spiralling into the depths of memory- waiting for the start of the nightmare.

Only to sharply jerk her head up at the sound of a clang. Blearily, her eyes widen, the world coming back into focus again. But what greets her is not what she remembers of Langley's office, with its vague concepts of academia and prestige- already disintegrating beneath the scrutiny of the waking world. No, what greets Ina is the familiar sight of Her smithy.

Not the one she'd imagined she'd had, pasted together through a prodigal combination of chance, and unlikely coincidence, built in a coral castle. No, what stood in front of her was a building that had once been a temple, abandoned til its murals had flecked away to the off-white base coat beneath. Her Aunts abode, always ringing with the sound of freshly forged steel- and the laughter of-, "Koi?" She'd meant to find her sister, until she'd dozed off, hadn't she?

Langley could only wait and offer some slight hope to the universe that Ina was smart enough to avoid the trappings of the thing that dwelt within Langley. Langley certainly had not been. The promises were so, so tantalizing. Hope disgusted it, weakened it. And so Langley would offer as much hope as her twisted and withered heart could give. It would either be enough or Ina would be just one more whisper dwelling inside of Langley.

Ina rose to her feet, unsteady from the lingering pall of sleep, and further complicated by the Geta on her feet- needing a moment to properly align them on the stone steps she'd deigned to sprawl across. The white fabric of her robe was already scuffed from the impromptu nap- a surefire way to get herself chided, but even the looming threat of well-earned discipline couldn't dispel the sense of urgency that tickled at the back of her head. She'd been looking for Koi- why? It felt like it had been important, it must have been- though she'd somehow seen fit to take a break from it all.

Those words slide into the back of her brain like a sliver of steel, half-remembered images of grimy city streets flickering in the back of her mind for a few brief moments, before the surroundings clarify- before the clanging renews (when had it stopped?)- and her feet guide her to the top of the steps, as she begins to make her way towards her sisters' room. Because why shouldn't she be there? Though their revered aunt had managed to cultivate favour with the surrounding villages (despite Ina's Pranks), Koi rarely left- save for the few times she'd been asked in an official capacity to grant insight. ...Where else would she be?

Ina's head throbbed, even as her hands pushed on the door to her room- laying bare a familiar emptiness. An emptiness she knew to expect in her heart of hearts. Because Kois' warmth, her scent- was not here.

And. It. Was. Her. Fault.

It chose now to approach, selecting a form that would most assuredly ignite fear, having probed Ina's mind and thumbed through her traumas. Someone who might make her feel powerless. And it would ever so carefully position itself between Ina and that scar of light that flickered in the far distance. It was a man who looked grizzled by countless untold wars and battles but who had certainly been the sort to smile frequently at one time in his life. His greying hair still held the hints of the sandy blonde that it had once been. And though he stood tall, his shoulders slumped inward ever so slightly as if he carried some immeasurable burden. He was dressed like a soldier, his attire utilitarian and purposeful. Nothing gaudy was worn. Battlefields were no place for ornaments. And at his back and hips were... so many swords. More swords than any ten people could possibly wield. And strangely, they seemed to defy being counted. It was as if the number changed constantly. "Your fault, indeed. Had I known how insufferable your lineage would be, I'd have killed her instead of trained her..."

Ina winces at the voice, because though the words were harsher- it was not to such a degree that they were unimaginable. Especially with what he'd done for the 'good' of the family. What he'd felt would be for the best for all of them. She doesn't want to look at him, to see the familiar disappointment and condescension, from someone -something- that seemed so insurmountable. But her body fails to heed her, the reactions drilled into her obliging her obedience, even- 'After it had been so long'. The idea splits through her mind, throbbing and gnawing, "Good afternoon, Great Uncle." Her lips move, imperceptibly, attempting to pantomime some form of insolence, but the familiar sting of tears well up in her eyes at the expected aftermath. 'Nice ta see ja, too.' Her posture stiffens, as though her internal defiance may have been overheard- the whole of her being feeling as though it were coiling up like some spring. Waiting for the moment when she could run. When they could run together. Their great adventure. Ina's countless Calamities, Koi, her Keeper.

Then came the whispers. Countless voices that had failed this test in the past. And leading that choir was Langley's voice, dripping with hate and oozing with malice. It sounded hungry, starved even; the sort of famished that poisoned the heart and lead people to resort to cannibalism. It was the sound of pure, animalistic survival instinct. "You could kill him. We could help. Say the word and you would stand upon his corpse, victorious. Nothing would be beyond you. You could see her again..."

The man shifted, a ripple cut through him and he seemed to shrink. This seemed to surprise the man, whose face contorted in shock for a moment. But then a wave of understanding washed over that warrior's visage. "Oh, I see..." He spoke. "Clever. A deal is a deal, indeed..."

That scar of light seemed closer now. But the warrior, he still tried to keep himself between it and Ina. Langley may have been bound by rules and honor and it may be bound to Langley, but it was still Rthn'kaal. It was still the void between the stars, the devourer of will, that which twisted order and defiled hope. Forced to be held within Langley's crude form aside...

It. Would. Not. Be. Denied.

Ina's head pulses again, a raging migraine that seems to grow in severity, keeping tempo as that choir of the wronged begin to voice their envy & odium. Violence had often been a clarion call to their family, conflict colouring the directions it took- overtaking even the small acts of kindness that tried to assert themselves. "See her-" She was having trouble seeing at all, the haziness of the man's uncanny arsenal magnified by the familiar burn of tears. But was it that simple? She remembered the weariness that had started to set in, the wistful looks. And then one day- had she run, or had they been split up? Her recollections were a jumble, blazing feverishly in her mind as she tried to remember. To look back at those events sincerely- but the memory simply isn't there. Just an awareness. That regardless of how big of a mess Ina had made, The garish displays and inane advertisements that had been splashed over festivals and papers alike, the blatant opening of snake-oil shops. . .

It Hurts. Koi. It Hurts. Why didn't you look back?

"Why, why, why."

The weights' becoming too much now, realization and possibility mingling together to form an awful event horizon within her mind. A splintering that runs its way to the depth of her psyche, and forces her to clench her hand in a spastic gesture. "Why did you have to show me that." The words are hushed, but in that raw anger, there's an echo, a flicker of something immaterial lighting up, even as her sanity threatens to cede beneath the scope of this crushing despair. "GET." It wanted to offer the promise of violence? "OUT." Fine, then. "OF MY WAY." It could have it, as her fist collides into the parody of a once-familiar face- misfortune and madness spilling off from the foxkin in waves.

||Ina would certainly feel the impact. The sensation of fist colliding with flesh. Even the feeling of finger bones breaking would have seared its way through Ina's hand as it pulled from deep within the foxkin's mind all the sensations that she knew that she should feel when her fist collided with her Great uncle's face. But the impact never actually happened. Ina would find herself stumbling through him as he dissipated, bursting into an inky black cloud that was somehow, impossibly, darker than the darkness of the void that surrounded them.

"Quite the spitfire my old friend has found..." Its voice echoed, amusement casting a veil over the ever-present ravenous desire. It didn't need to say the second part of that sentence out loud, did it? The part where it only showed Ina what was already there...

Ina was overwhelmed- sick with anger, with sorrow, and even a queer sense of satisfaction for managing those steps forward. She ached, mind and soul- but she'd earned her momentum, and it was picking up once more. "I'll give 'er yer regards." You pile of Sh-. That second part didn't need to be said out loud, either. But the defiance, even internally, felt good- gave her something to clutch onto. As did the awareness that she was likely due for a long conversation with the contractor at a later date. . . . Or perhaps, a fellow Contractee. It was almost a comforting thought. At the very least, a distracting one to help drown out the mockery.

There remained only a sea of blackness between Ina and the scar of light in the distance. It never seemed to grow closer. Sometimes, it even seemed to pull away and grow even more distant. Minutes of walking. Hours. Days... long enough that time started to lose meaning. And all the while, there was silence. True silence. The sort of silence where one can hear their own blood flowing in their veins, a constant sound like trickling water broken up by the steady thud thud thudding of one's own heartbeat. Ina was alone now. Truly alone. What felt like weeks seemed to pass, if time had not already lost all meaning to Ina entirely.

But eventually, Ina would blink or glance away from that little shear of light, and then it would be right in front of her.

"I stand by my offer." The voice would whisper one last time inside Ina's skull. "You know where to find me..."

Ina could have hesitated, could have asked a question- but, she'd given it her answer before, and now the only thing she had to offer the abyss was a clenched fist, and a single defiant digit. "She'll find me when she's ready, n' I'll burn her a path ta' get there without yer help ya fu-" And then she was through the breach, into the light, into the scent of.

Well, not fresh air. Specifying -slime- hunting meant they'd emerged within the Alithyran catacombs, which meant the scent of decay and mold was ever-present. Contained within dark and crumbling waterlogged corridors. "Gods' Sakes."

Nagaville Tunnels

There would be an awful feeling in the pit of Ina's gut, the sort of horrendous shooting agony that generally coincided with the consuming of extremely bad meat. It would rise slowly towards the chest and then the throat where it would become a lump. The mouth would salivate in anticipation as a foul taste filled the tongue. And then it all spilled out, a viscous black tar. So much of it. More than the foxkin's stomach could have possibly held. More than her entire body could have possibly held.

Ina is definitely regretting her choices right now- though, perhaps some distant part of her brain might be grateful, because the overwhelming pain in her guts, and the overarching sense of revulsion that's arrested her attention is doing wonders for dragging more and more of her attention to the present, and disallowing her from dwelling.

Just, it would be nice if she wasn't currently hurling her guts out until her knees buckled, and she found herself collapsed in the midst of sewer water. "Ugh."

Whatever that horrible tar was, it had begun to move. It gathered itself into a heaping, throbbing mound that quivered and pulsated as if something were buried within. And something was indeed buried within. A hand emerged, grasping sightlessly at the air. And then the rest followed. An arm. Another hand. That hand's arm. Langley's head. She clawed her way out of that disgusting heap, strangely as spotless as she had been when Ina had left her just seconds ago.

It was not Langley's favourite way to travel. It lacked dignity and was entirely unbecoming of someone of her status. But it certainly was the quickest way - from her perspective, at least - to get from point A to point B. Tricking an unknowable horror from another plane of existence into folding reality for her also came with a lot of potential risk factors.

Ina's stomach was still turning on itself, trying to ensure that every last drop of otherworldly blight was purged from her system- until some semblance of equilibrium was restored to her. It's only when the watering of her eyes begins to abate that she even bothers to take notice of the unhallowed amalgamation of matter happening before her. "Ja know-" Her throat burned, the residual bile sticking to her tongue, and coaxing her into producing a small decanter of something sickly sweet from a pouch. She waits a few moments for that lozenge to do its work before she starts again, her voice less of a rasp this time around, "Normally Ja buy a girl dinner before ja rearrange her guts. yeah?" Ina is, perhaps surprisingly, unphased by the grotesque sight- though to be fair, it did pale compared to the nothingness that inhabited the contractor. "Speaking of which, yer buddy sends their regards." A name is there- on the tip of her tongue, like all she'd need to do is squint, to strain an already sore mind to recall it. But she knows better. Knows better than to think the name. To even deign to recall it. Instead, she lets the mercurial nature of her mind flick back to the present, to the future- doing her best to feign indifference to what had occurred, and instead focus on, "..God this place is squalid. The great Naga Empire or whateva', huh?" The tunnels were a mess- a combination of year-long disrepair, and the fresh sign of conflict courtesy of the critters which inhabited the place. "Anyways, plans simple. Find slime. I apply violence to slime. We grab da goo. Easy." Ignore everything else that lives here. She'd gotten her momentum again- now she just needed to keep it.

Pure bliss had washed over them, an unadulterated joy. To call it cruel would be... unrefined, a concept coined by lesser brains to comprehend an unfeeling universe where nothing actually mattered. False ideals of morality were beneath them. Merged so closely and untainted by the humanity that clung to the flesh, they could see so much. A wild and untamed cosmos filled with life just waiting to be devoured. The human comparison of crushing ants came to mind, minuscule things that they were when compared to them...

When Langley reclaimed authority over mind and flesh, she found herself staring at Ina with hand outstretched and grasping. The hunger was still there, urging Langley to reach that hand right into the core of Ina's being but it was held at bay by reason and contract. She lowered her hand and set about buttoning her blouse back up to cover the flesh where the portal had previously occupied. What had Ina said? She had certainly heard the words but they were just a drop in the bucket compared to all that Langley could perceive when she and it had been one.

"Indeed..." Langley would eventually respond in a cool fashion, deciding to hide that she had lost herself for a moment behind her usual air of cold superiority.

Inas' faith in the contractor's bond is enough that she actually waves a hand in front Of Langleys' face during the brief moment they seem to have gone out to Lunch, seemingly indifferent to the vaguely grasping hand. Really, The foxkin can't be sure if it's simply a matter of being bored with her presence, or some post-spookiness-clarity that's consumed the forefront of the odd woman's thoughts. Whatever the case, that particular train of thought is engrossing enough, and Langleys seeming vacancy so complete, that when she does finally deign to speak, Ina actually bolts upright, as though she was sticking her hand in a cookie jar. Her hand, notably, is no longer wiggling in front of her face either- folding behind her back along with its twin so she can clasp them together. "N' I guess we- figure out tha' hows of leavin' after tha' fact." Wasn't the Naga City at least partially under lockdown? ...They'd figure it out. In the meantime, she reaches into the pouch-of-holding and begins to pluck out some various odds and ends. Nutmeg, caustic acid, a guppy full of toothpicks and a light flour finish- and lastly, an umbrella. Dented, and now with a few more holes in it than before- but still good. At least insofar as exuding flammable powder when it's opened. "...Lead the way." Which is to say- she's definitely not savvy about Snekko-city.

Langley chose now to take a cursory look at their surroundings, an act that very quickly brought a grimace to the necromancer's face. As far as decor went, it left much to be desired and while Langley had not been expecting opulence, she had not quite prepared herself for what was essentially a sewer. "Yes. Leaving. Probably best to not tempt fate twice so soon." Langley mused. For the most part, she had a good grasp on her inner self but opening the door that wide was never the safest of options.

Langley was not exactly the greatest guide through this particular city herself, having had no real reason to ever come here. But she acquiesced with a shrug and began trudging forward. Heels were probably not the wisest choice for field expeditions but it was a bit too late to go back.

Ina follows along, her brief efforts at skipping stymied by the grotesque slosh of putrid puddles- and an odious carpet-like substance that was almost certainly sentient. Really, the only thing that seems to spare her from its attentions, is the visceral shudder it gives off from the cloud of pixie dust clinging to the fox.

All the same, it did a more than adequate job of dampening her already dank humour- making the process of outpacing the prior moments that much more difficult. "So- what was the deal wit' dat?" A part of her didn't actually want to know, but, hunting for slime in a sewer seemed like it'd be a time-consuming task.

Or it would be, if their imminent approach wasn't sending ripples through the water, and coaxing a slime into scuttling up the wall in order to find a proper vantage point for an ambush. But, it's not like Ina was privy to that. Things working out didn't necessarily mean -quickly-, oftentimes.

//|The squish squashing of whatever they were walking on did not delight Langley even a little bit. Monstrous as she was, she had little taste for filth. She much preferred to do her dark dealings from behind a desk or sharing a meal. The only comfort provided was that her presence was at least off-putting enough that whatever disgusting thing they were traipsing through had little interest in finding out what Langley tasted like. This place was noisy with life, grotesque and primeval as that life may have been. It whispered like a thousand voices in her skull.

"I think it is very important that you ask yourself how badly you really want the answer to that. It is now aware of you and knowledge can be quite the dangerous th-" Langley cut herself off and held up a hand, silently bidding In a to stop moving. A new whisper had joined the chorus, mindlessly hungry and unperturbed by Langley's profane aura. Yellow eyes flitted about, scanning the darkness for its resonance...

Ina hops, landing upon a loose stone and nearly tilting forward into the murk, before she swings back in an almost equally exaggerated fashion, "Hrm- well. Not enough ta want ta' make a fresh deal- especially given I already gotta be careful 'bout contractual oblimagations." She shuts her eyes to think, and the remnants of her journey flicker behind her eyes- coaxing forth the incomplete sneer of 'Leopold-but-not'. Her home, too, bubbles up- but there's something about it that feels off, that makes her stomach churn to think about, and which makes letters dance across her tongue unbidden, before she swallows the incomplete thought. "What I need to know, then. Since this seems like a problem."

One of many- given the Jelly was now successfully oozing its way up the wall and along the ceiling- its adhesive surface allowing it to smoothly capture the loose bits of stonework that should have been dislodged during its passage. A quirk of its physiology that seemed especially meaningful when it abruptly releases from the passage wall, the membrane of its body stretching out so it could try and spread over the pair like a gross, asphyxiating tarp.

Generally speaking, trying to grab anything that could be described as amorphous had a tendency to backfire. Squishy, wriggling bits were fairly adept at squirming their way free or simply ensnaring that which grasped at them. Langley knew this quite well, given her own strange physicality. In short, conventional methods of capture would not do. Which was likely just fine, given that this was a particularly unconventional duo.

This place absolutely reeked of decay, the filth surrounded them in all directions and made the water at their feet run thick with all manner of wretchedness. That would do just fine. "Get ready…" The necromancer said to her companion, far too calmly for someone who was actively being hunted for dinner.

Langley knelt down and submerged her perfectly manicured hands into the rotten waters and from within, there came a putrid green glow as the sludge began to bubble. A sound not dissimilar to the loudest, most revolting belch that had ever been let loose echoed throughout the tunnels as a viscous and cloudy bubble large enough to comfortably house the both of them emerged from the waters between them. Up, up, up that bubble went towards the descending slime to capture it within. It likely would not be enough to hold the slime for any great length of time but if Ina had a plan in that devious little head of hers, now was the time.

Ina would no doubt be flattered that she'd somehow weaved the idea that there was an overarching -plan- in the works. Flattered, and very likely to disappoint- because it's an overarching strategic failure. That said, for all of her failings- there is one particular tactic that the foxkin excels in. "Always willin' ta improvise." Thankfully, this particular situation didn't require much of a hard think, if only because the bubble was essentially laying out the solution to their problem. Literally, given that the slime's currently condensed existence meant its nucleus was plainly visible to the naked eye, unable to shift around to some remote region of its body. "Welp. Ja about ta' provide me some much-needed stress relief." Her right foot shifts forward, her stance lowering slightly in what was almost an approximation of a ready pose- before she swings her umbrella around into a waiting hand, and thrusts the tip forward into the quivering mess. Despite the impromptu weapon- the tip does a surprisingly solid job of piercing through, guided by motions she'd long thought forgotten. But Ina is no warrior, and the act of piercing through takes a rather forceful exertion of strength- to the point she needs to step forward to really drive it through. And despite the limited space, that nucleus is still able to adjust enough to draw its way out.

"Gotcha." Then she clicks the umbrella open, and yanks it backwards. There's no time to adjust anymore, the slimes core caught within the fabric and unable to slither through the weathered fabric- a fact that sees it wrenched cleanly out in a surprisingly clear arc, which ends in a downward swing towards her side. Actually sort of stylish, really- up until the point her attempt at closing the umbrella ends in an unsatisfying click. "S'fine. Happens all tha' time." No, it doesn't, and she's already sulking as her attempts at enclosing the core repeatedly hit a dead end. With a grimace, she finally has to pick the thing up with her bare hands, and just toss it into the portable space she keeps up her sleeve. "..Jus, uh- keep tha' gooooo. " Yes, she draws that out, "Somehow. We're gonna need it."A beat, "Anyways, lead tha' way?" Mostly because the bubble was doing all the hard lifting here.