RP: Abominable Alchemy

Part of the A Few Fox Tales Arc

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary

At the tail end of a convoluted fetch quest, Ina finally honours her initial agreement with Langley. Neat.

Vailkrin, House Markan

Ina may not take much seriously, but when it came to fulfilling contractual obligations, she was surprisingly professional. Especially when there were consequences™. It's for that reason that she'd risked earning the ire of Markanite vampires, by overseeing the construction of the vat personally. This particular detail was important, because of the unhallowed mess now brewing within it's confines- the finest expression of abominable alchemy.

The core of this project, both figuratively and literally, had been the Nuclei of the slime she'd 'slain'. Thankfully, and altogether luckily, she'd managed to avoid messily puncturing it- which meant it hadn't been beyond the pale to bring it back from oblivion, with a careful application of the materials that Lanlan had provided her- a concentrate distilled from the hyper regenerative trolls they'd slain, which was then further augmented by that self-same essence. A fantastically potent curative agent in it's basic state- albeit with a few caveats, such the fluid itself carried a distinct vulnerability to the cold, which complicated storage. That said, the most pressing side effect was the risk of uncontrolled growth, especially when the imbiber was wounded.

In this case, though, it's a feature, not a bug- if only due to the next stage. In this case, that meant the introduction of a secondary solution- specifically, the slimes ooze, albeit processed with Langleys blood at a suitably diluted state. Whilst normally this would be an unstable and potentially dangerous combination- Ina's coup de grace on the murderous jelly-belly meant that Ina had it's essence to fiddle around with. An essence well suited to adapting to changes in environment, and -nature-. Sure, there's some grotesque growing pains as the fluid ripples, bubbles, and reflects dark fragments of things better-left-unseen.

That said, it's only so long until it calms itself- at which point, it's reintroduced to it's initial owner, the now regenerate nuclei essentially serving as an engine to a -hopefully- satiating substance. Admittedly, the fact that the slime had died from a pixie dust-laced weapon meant there might be a bit more kick to the batch than intended- but that was a problem for future Ina. Or Langley. Speaking of which, they were due for a check-in.

||At this point, it seemed that the higher-ups were just fully content to allow Langley unhindered command of personnel and resources as it had, asofar, been generally favourable towards over all day-to-day functions and the quality of research the underlings provided. So when Langley entered the room, she was joined by an entourage of vampires who were feverishly taking notes down on clipboards as they hung on every word that the necromancer said.

"...isn't yielding meaningful progress. Cut the project entirely and put them on healing potion production. Perhaps some menial labour will better inspire them to try harder next time." Langley said curtly before turning her attention to the significantly more pressing operation at hand. She lifted and hand and flicked her wrist, which sent her followers scattering to accomplish the numerous tasks that she had given them. "Since nothing is on fire and no one is apologizing profusely, I trust everything is catalyzing appropriately?"

"Have we added the base serum yet? What is the current projected time frame for synthesis?" Langley then spoke, not waiting for a response to her initially posed question. An assistant was quick to hand her a clipboard and a coat, which was quickly put on so as not to ruin the scarlet pouf and black vest that she was presently wearing. She had several meetings after this and it would not do to arrive with mysterious stains.

Ina, for her part, had known better than to wear anything fancy- given that the white alchemists' robes she'd been wearing, are now a rather ominous dark red (and very slimey). These were definitely getting tossed into a fire later. "Ja' can look at the notes on tha' desk. I reckon it should meet your criteria. Tha' base is already included in the core 'a this lil project- though." That was perhaps the only real flaw, wasn't it? "I should emphasize -core-. Singular. What's in that vat is whatcha got fer' now, and while it's propagatin' at a growing rate, if anythin' happens to it, or it's stored poorly-" She lifts one hand up, wobbling it to either side along with a wince. "Anyways. I -think- it should pass tha' muster, though figuring out how to flavour it, n' what exactly should be done to maintain it's rate of growth . . ." How much -would- it need to eat, and how to do so without it's properties changing? These were all questions and notes in the documents beside her. Replicability was important, as was making sure it didn't look like she was slacking. "Oh, and uh- I dunno where you're gonna be keepin' all this, but I figure you'll work somethin' out."

||There was a brief glint of malicious intent in Langley's eyes as her mind buzzed with excitement. All the fun little solutions for keeping the creation fed, all the horrific and interesting ways to flavour it, cornering a market and controlling the supply…

"Have the bird send Kasyr a message. Have him informed that we have a solution for any prisoners he wants to be rid of and the usual spiel about not asking questions he doesn't want to know the answer to." Langley hummed to an assistant, who begrudgingly ran off to tell the bird - very likely while muttering something about having to take orders from that bird. "Prepare a test subject." The necromancer then ordered another assistant in a much less sing-songy fashion.

"If this works, I'm certain that funding expeditions to obtain more materials will not be a problem." Langley said with a shrug before her demeanour returned to seriousness, a hand being placed on Ina's shoulder. "You've done well, friend. We're going to make history together, I can feel it."

The necromancer quickly withdrew and walked towards the vat, content to pretend that that brief moment of kindness had never happened. The contents of that vat held so much for the future of Vailkrin. "And if this works, I already have our next project in mind. I hope you have no moral objections to altering parasitic life forms." Langley mused enigmatically as she set about the process of preparing a syringe…

Ina may find certain elements of Langley to be inscrutable, even uncanny, but if there's something she can recognize- it's that look of future mischief. Sure, there's some part of her brain that registers it as some deeply horrifying variant of her own looks- but it's like a distant cousin. A really distant cousin.

Whatever the case, it's not long until Langleys tossing orders around and whipping the lab into motion, the assistants had gone to a corner of the room where a number of caged strays were located- the likes of which also contained a number of constraints. Clearly, they'd continued to make improvements in the containment department- likely more for the sake of efficacy, than any real concern for the safety of the assistants. In a distant sense, there's actually something fascinating about the whole- since it runs very differently from Lanlan's more laissez-faire form of leadership relative to his own minions. Still, it was fun- sort of endearing, really. 'Wah'. She doesn't say it, but there's something unexpected about Langleys hand upon her shoulder- even despite the bangle she was wearing. Perhaps even because of it, from someone knowing about her nature, and choosing to express some degree of fondness in that manner all the same. It actually takes her a moment to awkwardly murmur a, "Dun' mention it."

And then it was the moment of truth. Ina's actually been waiting for this moment with bated breath, to the point that she finds the nearest seat and dives right in, heedless of the vexsome screeching noise it makes as it slides back against the floor. A skid that rather neatly places the foxkin adjacent to one of the myriad caged and strapped vampires. Rather surreptitiously, the vixen slides her bangle of, intending to leech a bit of luck from these already unfortunate souls. Really, odds were that it was going to be less actively destructive- and more ensuring that this poor sap is the first on the chopping block as far as 'fish-food-esque' supplement. " In any case, she's ready to see that first inaugural poke. Although... "Just so y'know, there's a spigot on the back. Figured it'd be a bit easier fer bottlin' it n' tha like. Portable drinks, ch'yeah? n' we could just upscale tha vat as it grows."

"Slaygo." Langley chuckles, holding up the now prepped syringe towards the ceiling so that she might better admire the liquid within, less opaque and oily than it had originally been but also now more distinctly red rather than black. While not normally a superstitious creature, Langley could not bring herself to say the word 'perfect' out loud but that word certainly rang noisily in her mind. It had to work this time. The situation in Vailkrin was too dire for failure.

The importance of this was obvious if not through the reverence with which Langley admired the serum, then by the way that the assistants all seemed to stiffen and any chatter quickly fell silent as they selected their victim and brought forward - sufficiently sedated this time. The ragged man staggered lethargically as he was brought forward in chains firmly manned by every available assistant.

"I thought a lot about what I'd say at this moment, my friends. It seemed fitting to give a speech but all that ever came to mind was progress. So… here is to progress." Langley stoically spoke before stepping towards the feral vampire. There was no pomp and circumstance about it from there on. A needle penetrated flesh and the plunger was depressed.

Now, they just had to wait and watch…

Ina hums thoughtfully at the moniker, already trying to figure out adjacent branding elements, “For the elder in a rush? Associate Status, but still accessible price-wise? ”Nah, too posh sounding. Her hands clap together, before slowly spreading out to form a rainbow, “A taste of progress? How’s that?” One hand waves away the rainbow into a set of multi-coloured bubbles, a nice bit of on-the-fly practice, “An ethical Alternative - Might be good for an audience abroad, ch’yeah? Make it palatable to tha’ neighbours.” Her head cranes a bit to the side as she stares at the vat, and then off to the various cages.

While to some degree she’s been waiting for some sort of violent reaction- for an explosion, or a burst of inhuman strength, the actual result is a bit…anti-climatic. Initially, there’s simply nothing, but even when some degree of reaction does occur, it’s more the sort of vigorous straining that would accompany a vampire starved to the brink being resuscitated. Which, in the grand scheme of things, would be fairly impressive on such a small dose- if all the restraints hadn’t been made to the specifications of earlier incidents involving more unrefined, undiluted serums. “…If this is a success, might I say that it Is -verreh- borin’. I might, short term. Long term, I’m sure tha’ money’ll keep me cozy at night.”

"That, my dear friend, is the thing about progress. The inventor of the wheel very likely had no idea that they were about to change the world." Langley mused as she watched the feral. Nothing happened. It was indeed quite boring. But that lack of excitement was exactly what they needed. This is what victory looked like; a sleeping feral whose dreaming mind no longer thrashed with the madness of hunger. "Congratulations." Langley said. It was all that she could say. There had been so much violence, suffering, and chaos to get to this point that it seemed only appropriate to simply indulge in the simplicity of it all. Her assistants had earned this moment of quiet and calm.

"Dispose of the body and then take the rest of the day off. You've all earned it." The necromancer finally said as she turned and walked towards the door. They had earned their rest even if Langley still had much work ahead of her. But she paused before leaving the room and angled her head towards Ina. "You are… valuable to me."

There was an awkwardness to those words. Langley had almost forgotten how to express true gratitude. Rather than remain though and allow that awkwardness to hang heavy in the air, Langley just left the room with little fanfare.

Ina may have been caught off guard by the unexpected touch earlier- but flattery was something else altogether. She practically beams at the words, her ego somehow puffing up beyond its' norms. One hand lifts up to her chest, if only so she can splay her fingers across and tilt forward in what could be interpreted as a bow, despite sitting. "I- " know? The words don't quite happen, an almost alien sense of restraint creeping up. Perhaps it was the odd display of vulnerability from the contractor, but when Ina lifts her head up- her expression is more a subdued half-grin, "'m happy to help. It's been fun workin' wit'cha."

They were already moving on though, which left Ina to simply pivot in her seat, to passively spectate the removal of the thrall- and speculate about the future of her creation. After all, she had a thing for sincere praise - and, who knows? A further study of slimes could yield all sorts of improvements to both this project, and her other culinary-oriented creations. Maybe she could even parse who the slimes propagated, to bypass the need to make a new one. "...Mutations across generations, though, ch'yeah? Adaptabilities a double edged thing." And it's like this that she whiles away her time- until eventually, her wanderlust kicks in once more. She had things to do. Places to be. A mayor to get hexed.