rating for extremely probable body horror. canon is Franken Fran

[chirurgical]

[You can't quite place it, but there's something slightly intimidating about the giant, secluded, Mary Shelly-esque manor. Maybe it's just something about the light. Either way, it's the only shelter for miles, and you're not going to let any sort of pop-cultural preconceptions keep you out here in the storm.

After a few solid seconds of knocking, the doors creak open to reveal a girl, probably no older than her late teens, covered in a network of stitches and surgical scars and flanked by a pair of monstrous manservants. Literally monstrous. One of them has a dog's head, for Christ's sake.

Maybe you should've just kept walking.]

Ah, hello! Can I help you?

Comments

screams

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Why would Veronica be intimidated by the estate? Even if she hadn't been here long of her own accord, it still gave off the vibe of home.

Of course, she's been patrolling from the look of her. Her boots caked in mud, leaves and sticks sticking to her cloak. Veronica huffed in annoyance as she waited for someone to answer, relieved when someone did, but surprised when it wasn't Howl.]

Fran? Can you let me in? I'm getting soaked to the bone out here.

YO

[chirurgical]

Oh!

[You'd expect Fran to be able to recognize her own sister by now, but she's been having a rough day, lay off.]

Of course. What were you doing out in the storm? [More security work, she bets. Veronica's as capable as they come, but that doesn't stop her from worrying sometimes.]

YOOOO

[stitchedupbodyguard]

It wasn't a storm when I went out here. [She grumbles angrily as she steps inside past Fran and the servants, trying fruitlessly to wipe some of the debris off of herself.]

I was patrolling the area, as usual. I found a milita group off to the south. [She clutched her cloak and twisted it, water, and something redder than that, dripping off.] Not much of a problem.

[chirurgical]

[Fran furrows her brow at that. Damn girl, security before slaughter. We talked about this.]

And the bodies? [Not even considering the possibility of survivors here.]

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Excuse you. When a strange group of heavily armed people opens fire on her, she retaliates.]

I'm not sure they could be called bodies after that. But, I pretty sure there's one or two out there you could salvage.

[chirurgical]

I'll have to pick them up soon, then. They won't be in usable condition for long if the storm keeps up.

[Sighing and shaking her head. The things you make her do, Veronica.]

Maybe next time you can let them off with a warning instead.

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Guess going inside to dry off in the first place was sort of a stupid thing to do, huh. If they're just going to go out again.]

They were making a beeline for the estate, Fran. I couldn't... [Noting her face, Veronica chooses to swallow her words and nods.] Fine, a warning next time.

[chirurgical]

I'm not berating you for doing your job, Veronica. I'd just prefer it if you left them where I could perform the necessary operations.

[If she can't stitch them together into an insensate abomination that begs for death, then by god what good are they?]

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Clearly this is something that should be reprimended. Not that Veronica would enjoy that very much. At least Fran was seeing her point.]

I... well...

[Would it be fun watching as another abomination against nature was created by her sister's hands? Did she have a choice in the matter?]

I can... lead you to them, I guess. It's really not that far.

[chirurgical]

Please, do. I don't think we've much time to lose.

[no she's not going to change into something more appropriate, why would you think that. a labcoat is still technically a coat.]

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Fran, you're everyday clothing amounts to thin clothing on top of thin white clothing. Grab an umbrella, or something.]

Alright. [A sigh and a nod to the servants before Veronica steps out into the rain and motions for Fran to follow. A few of the servants will assuredly join them.]